


Nervous Systems

by Bluebluebaby



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Chloe As An Actor with a Massive Social Media Following Was Too Good To Pass Up, F/F, Lost Legacy AU, Slow Burn, for real this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:34:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29124243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluebluebaby/pseuds/Bluebluebaby
Summary: Chloe Frazer is an action star notorious for running her mouth, bucking security protocol, and pissing off industry suits.Nadine Ross is a private security specialist who really needs a big contract.(Chlodine Bodyguard AU)
Relationships: Chloe Frazer/Nadine Ross
Comments: 69
Kudos: 97





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this idea wouldn't leave me alone, so here we fuckin' are. 
> 
> (I'm not an expert in anything so please suspend your disbelief for any factual errors.)

Nadine Ross _hates_ working for actors. 

As a rule, musicians are more exciting security clients; businessmen equally arrogant but willing to pay more, and politicians on occasion require the sophisticated strategy and lightning fast reflexes that had once made her an effective mercenary.

Actors? All ego. No worth. 

But considering Nadine is a: woman, person of color, immigrant, and disgraced former private military contractor, she isn’t in any position to be choosy about selecting clients, so when manager-to-the-stars Victor Sullivan calls? She answers. 

The situation is this: his client, Chloe Frazer, notorious action star, party girl, and erstwhile homewrecker has fired her security detail, _again_ . And has also coincidentally mouthed off to the press _again_ , in a way that’s drawn even more rabid right-wing threats than usual both on and offline. 

“She can be tough to deal with,” Victor concedes, “but she’s genuinely good once you get below the surface.” 

“I don’t care what kind of person she is,” Nadine huffs,”I care that she has a reputation for subverting her own bodyguards and ignoring established security protocol.” 

“Which is why I’ve convinced her to pay you double your usual rate if you can keep up. Pull this job off until things die down, hell, stick it out for a year? And you’ll have people knocking down your door wanting to hire your guys. Or girls, as it were.” 

Nadine doesn’t like the sound of it one bit. But business is slow, bills are coming up, and if her luck doesn’t change she’ll be moving back home with her mother at the ripe old age of 35. 

“Fine. I’ll do it. Reserving the right to walk if she insists on making my job impossible.” 

“Oh, that’s wonderful news,” Victor laughs, having been prepared to push much harder if he needed to. “She’s insisting on calling you herself, doing her own vetting, but trust me, you’ve got it in the bag. I’ll go ahead and send the contracts over.” 

Nadine’s learned well enough not to attach herself to an outcome until the ink has dried and the checks have cleared. But she does like to know what she’s walking into, so she does a bit of researching while waiting for the call that may or may not come. 

She searches Frazer on Twitter. Her most recent post:

“ _the ability to have an abortion at age 19 gave me the opportunity to have my career. Without it, I would’ve been a miserable single mum, all because an asshole lied about using a condom. (1/2)_

_I feel no guilt for my choice, only peace and gratitude, and I will fight my ass off to make sure no one has to carry an unsafe or unwanted pregnancy. Our bodies, our choice. (2/2)“_

_Oh. and fwiw, I identify fully as “pro-abortion;” no buts about it._

That explains the uptick in death threats lately, then. 

A quick google search through press clippings shows coverage of her affair with co-star Nathan Drake half a dozen years ago, a few high profile rumored flings with other actors, and more recent tabloid cheapshots about how she’s nearly 40 and unmarried, the most tragic fate for any human woman, but especially a celebrity. 

Nadine notices a clear difference in her public trajectory since her breakout role 12 years ago– in the past few years, Frazer has become increasingly outspoken about political causes, going so far as to shut down production on her last film when the producers attempted to use non-union labor. Industry exec chatter says she’s an insufferable diva; reddit threads about kind celebrities are filled with stories from fans and crew about her going out of her way to make them feel special. 

Her story is the true rags-to-riches Hollywood dream: discovered by an action director while free-climbing a building in Paris and in a matter of months thrust into the international spotlight. She’s insistent on doing her own stunts for all her films, and while she doesn’t speak much to interviewers about her personal background, she curates an active Instagram presence filled with goofy photos that she shares with her fans. 

Nadine can’t lie, she’s beginning to understand the appeal. 

(Although time will tell the truth on whether she’s actually as self-obsessed as anyone else in show business.) 

Nadine’s halfway through an article about Frazer donating her royalties from the latest _Lena Crane_ film to a trans rights organization when her phone rings. 

“Nadine Ross.” 

“Oh, another expat! G’day mate!” 

The exaggerated Aussie accent is a clue as to the caller. 

“Is this Chloe Frazer?”

“What, you’re telling me you don’t recognize this voice from my Razzy-winning performance in _Antiquity Thief 4: Still More Shit to Steal?_ ” 

Nadine’s pretty sure it’s a joke, but she also doesn’t really watch movies. 

“Think I saw that one on a plane.” 

Frazer barks out a laugh, raucous and bold, and Nadine surmises she’s passed the first test. 

“Alright, enough flirting, Sully tells me you’re my new bodyguard.” 

“Head of security detail.” 

“Sure, same diff, yeah? Tell me, though: why should I hire you?”

Nadine could list her resume and her references, but Frazer doesn’t seem detail-oriented enough to be impressed by that. She opts for simplicity. 

“I’m good... And I’m not a condescending man.” 

Frazer sighs dreamily.

“Oh, you had me at ‘not condescending’. God, there’s a difference between protective and _over_ protective, you know?” 

“Ja.” 

(It’s strange, Nadine thinks, how quickly Frazer has made a business call feel so intimate. Maybe that’s the secret to “star quality”, that ability to make strangers feel at ease with you instantly.) 

“If Sully recommends you, I’m sure you’re more than qualified. I just want to make sure you understand where I’m coming from, what my absolutes are, so if they’re dealbreakers for you, you can get out now.” 

“Try me.” 

“One: if someone is waiting in line to speak to me at a convention or public appearance, I make time for them. I don’t give a fuck about the schedule. You can deal. Two: I will _never_ live in a fucking gated mansion. Figure out how to make that work and keep me safe. Three: If anyone on your team leaks anything to the press you’re fucking gone.” 

Ah. So here’s the fabled megalomania. The demands are objectively irrational (especially given Frazer’s propensity for drawing targets on her own back), except for the last, but on an emotional level, yeah, Nadine gets where Frazer’s coming from. 

And she really needs this fucking contract. 

“I can live with that.” 

“Good. I’ll text you my address and we can meet Monday morning at the house for the grand tour where you yell at me about the reckless manner in which I live my life. You’re not allergic to cats, are you?”

“Can’t wait,” Nadine rolls her eyes. “Cats are fine.” 

“Well, try to let loose this weekend if that’s your sort of thing; I’ve been told you’ll need the stress relief working with me.” 

“I’ll make sure to hit the punching bag extra hard.” 

Frazer chuckles, wishing her well and saying goodbye. 

Not five minutes after Frazer hangs up, Victor sends the contract to Nadine’s email. She looks it over, not noting any objections, and returns a signed copy. 

No turning back now. 

_

All things considered, Frazer’s home could be in a worse tactical position. It’s fairly modest in size (considering her box office gross), in a hip part of town, very much true to Frazer’s “hiding in plain sight” dedication to normalcy. It would be great if she could set up a proper security system, but she has a feeling Frazer won’t be into the idea. 

She parks her SUV on the street and Frazer is opening the front door, welcoming her in before she’s walked halfway up the drive. She recognizes her, from the film posters and the research she’s done in her security assessment, but she looks much more like an ordinary person today, in worn jeans and a v-neck red t-shirt. 

(An exceptionally _beautiful_ ordinary person, but that’s par for the course with film actors.) 

Frazer must have done her reading as well, because her eyes light up when she sees Nadine, as if to say, _“Ah, here’s the one we’ve all been waiting for!”_

“Nadine! Can I call you that— Nadine? It’s good to see you.” 

Frazer almost comes in for a hug, before Nadine’s standoffish posture deescalates her to a hearty handshake. 

“Whatever you want to call me is fine, Ms. Frazer.” 

“Don’t suppose I can convince you to call me ‘Chloe,’ huh?” 

“No.” 

Frazer laughs, and welcomes her inside, locking the door behind her. Nadine can probably at least convince her to upgrade the deadbolt and consider an extra keypad, if she won’t allow a full alarm system. 

It’s a nice house, solid wood floors and historical details; probably built in the 20’s, and very much lived in, unlike some of the compounds Nadine’s worked before, with standalone housing for security, helicopter pads, private theaters and outlandish swimming pools.

Frazer may be _famous_ , but she’s not ostentatiously wealthy. Or at least, she doesn’t _live_ like it. 

“Right, so, welcome to my humble abode! Now, I’ve kept this place for almost a decade, no issues, neighbors and I know one another and we’ve all lived in relative harmony for that time. I’ve always had an open-door policy where if anyone felt compelled to sell a story on me I’d buy them out double, or help them take care of whatever financial hardship made them want to do that in the first place. Doesn’t happen often, you know most locals don’t give a rat’s ass about celebrity, but it’s been a good system, if I do say so myself.” 

“Except now people have found Chloe’s home address, so instead of getting threats at the PO Box, we get them here,” a young woman mutters from the corner of the living room, leafing through a pile of the aforementioned mail. 

“That’s Meenu, my assistant,” Frazer explains. “Best in the biz, I swear.” 

“My specialty is in social media engagement, but I’ve had to fill in some info-sec gaps while she was searching for… well, you, I guess.” 

Meenu crosses her arms, clearly unimpressed with Nadine. 

(That’s fine, she’s not here to be impressive.)

“If this address has been compromised, you really should consider moving, Ms. Frazer.” 

“Not gonna happen,” Chloe frowns. “I’m not going to give up my _home_ because a bunch of misogynists don’t have a better hobby.” 

Best not to start this working relationship with a standoff. 

“Well, from now on, mail goes through my team, in case of contaminants. It also gives us a chance to dust for fingerprints and pass on information to the appropriate authorities. Have you pursued charges against any of these people yet?” 

“I don’t like cops,” Frazer scowls, and Nadine wonders if there’s a story there. 

“When violent people don’t face consequences they escalate.” 

“I’m willing to defer to you on this, but I don’t want to directly collaborate with them,” Chloe relents. 

“Fair enough,” Nadine shrugs. She has other ways of scaring people off. Sometimes the threat of a charge is enough. 

“Okay, mail through you, what else?” 

“Myself or one of my team will be present with you at all public appearances, including on-set. A team member will follow you in an unmarked vehicle on all public errands.” 

“Oh good, so I’m still allowed to buy groceries like a normal person, thank you _so_ much.” 

Nadine narrows her eyes. 

“You’ve apparently made a lot of enemies, Ms. Frazer. I’m just trying to keep you safe, without compromising your freedom.” 

Frazer sighs, holding up her hands in defeat. 

“And I suppose one of you lot is going to travel with me in three months when filming starts on my next project?” 

“Yes.” 

“Are you going to tell me that I’ll have to make do with a meathead jock because you’re too busy running the business to travel?” 

“I don’t think of myself as _too_ much of a meathead, but I’ll let you be the judge of that, Ms. Frazer.” 

“You know, Frazer isn’t even my legal last name.” 

Nadine can’t fight a half-smile. There’s something endearing about Frazer’s petulance, she can’t quite put her finger on it. 

“But you’ve hidden that fact well, which helps make your current security situation slightly less of a nightmare. Still not ideal, but I’ll grant you that it could certainly be worse.” 

Frazer blows a raspberry, before walking over to the kitchen where a french press is steeping. 

“Coffee?” 

“Please don’t feel obliged to wait on me.” 

“Nonsense. I know I’m giving you a hard time; least I can do is caffeinate you.” 

Nadine figures it’s easier to drink the coffee than to make this a sticking point, so she nods yes, signalling that she’ll take it black. 

Frazer assumes a faux-American cowboy accent. 

“I like my coffee like my women: strong, dark, and bitter.” 

“That is… the worst line I’ve heard in a very long time.” 

“Shame,” Frazer sighs, “thought I might be able to use my charm to persuade you to let me take unsupervised trips to Trader Joe’s.” 

“No such luck, I’m afraid.”

Nadine takes a sip of the coffee. It’s an upgrade to the swill she’d had at campsites in the desert, that’s for damn sure. 

“Now, one last thing to run by you. I’d like to have someone stationed outside the house at all times. My team are pros at stakeouts, but you might want to let your neighbors know, so they’re not alarmed.” 

“Oh god, I don’t even want to think about how much that’s going to cost.” 

“It’s that or security cameras everywhere; you’re paying for your privacy. We work light, so it will still be cheaper than having a big crew of personnel at any other time.” 

Frazer nods, accepting that the threats to her are real enough that the manpower is warranted. 

“I’m okay with day detail outside. Could nightshift just be in the house with me? Provided it’s not anyone too creepy?” 

“We’re all women,” Nadine laughs, “which I think would make you more comfortable.” 

“Well I don’t want to keep anyone away from their family. I mean, not that men don’t have families, I just don’t feel guilty about them, most of the time,” Chloe explains. 

“If it’s okay with you, I’ll be on the night shift most of the time. No babies waiting for me at home, don’t worry.” 

At that moment, a sleek grey cat crawls out from under Frazer’s sofa and rubs itself against Nadine’s leg, as if intuiting that she prefers animals to children. 

“Oh, that’s Ganesh. He’s every bit as much a prince as his name implies, usually shy, but he has excellent taste in people. If he approves, I reckon you’re all right, then.” 

Nadine scratches the top of the cat’s head, rubbing his ears idly as he nuzzles his chin against her ankle. 

“Isn’t Ganesh an elephant?” 

Frazer scoops up the cat, pulling his lips back to show where he’s missing his left canine. 

“Well, our friend here lost a tusk, too, so he earned the name. Besides, if I don’t use my father’s last name professionally, I can still honor his culture in other ways. And Ganesh is _quite_ the celebrity in his own right on my Instagram.” 

“Tell me he doesn’t have his own account.” 

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to hear,” Frazer winks, putting the cat down on the ground so he can resume marking Nadine with his scent. 

“I trust you’re practicing caution with your social media posts? Not sharing anything with a location, posting photos after the fact so no one can track your whereabouts?” 

“Meenu’s trained me well, don’t worry. We run a tight ship over here, eh?”

Meenu giggles, and Nadine can tell there’s more than a little informality in their working relationship, but Nadine hadn’t found anything alarming in her thorough perusal of Frazer’s accounts (inflammatory? sure, but not irresponsible with regard to her physical safety). 

Nadine informs Frazer that the day watch shift has already arrived (Ellie, an overly-serious 25 year old with a chip on her shoulder and an honorable discharge from the USMC), and asks if she can take a bit more time to survey the property’s potential weaknesses, make a plan, and give Frazer the shift schedule and contact info for each team member. 

It’s a small team—5 in total— which means not a lot of room for vacations or emergencies, but they work smoothly and have each other’s backs. Nadine had started her firm, Ross Private Security, a year ago, recruiting from a circle of similarly disaffected women who were tired of trying to make it in the boys’ club. In addition to Ellie, there’s Maria, a former LAPD officer forced out of the job after exposing her colleagues’ corruption; Constance, a champion MMA fighter looking for a paid segue into retirement; and Tracy, a former bouncer left high and dry after the last of LA’s lesbian bars closed down. Ellie will take the 6-2 shift weekdays, Tracy 2-10, and Nadine will handle overnights. Constance and Maria will split weekends with 12 hour shifts, 7-7, with Nadine on-call at all times in case of emergency. For bigger events that necessitate a larger detail, they share the load, depending on who needs more hours and who has more going on at home. 

(Nadine is always free to work the bigger events.) 

It’s a daunting amount of responsibility, sometimes, to be available 24/7, on the hook for anything that happens, but Nadine would never throw any of her team under the bus. If her name is on the business cards, her neck is on the line. And after the betrayal that lost her Shoreline… she’s willing to keep things small-scale and manageable for a good long while. It’s been good so far, this scrappy team of women who have never really fit in anywhere else. The sheer relief once they all figured out they didn’t have to prove themselves and could simply collaborate instead of compete had validated Nadine’s choice to strike out on her own. 

Nadine finalizes the security upgrade plan, and assures Frazer she’ll be back this evening. Frazer shakes her hand again (although she stands a bit closer this time) and as she says “Thank you,” Nadine sees her shoulders slump, as if the weight of the past month has completely worn her down. 

“I think you’ll be able to get some better sleep now, Ms. Frazer.” 

_

Frazer invites her to set up camp in the living room of her home for the night shift. It’s got a clear view of the door and windows, but she can still position herself tactically to have the jump on any potential intruder. Frazer’s bedroom is at the very end of the hall; only one way out, but that means only one way in, and that way is past Nadine. Nadine prefers to work smart, preventing the possibility of security breaches, but she keeps her body ready for the possibility, training in the gym and at the range religiously. She’s grateful she’s rarely a hired gun these days, but she knows she could be. 

When she arrives tonight, Frazer and Meenu are eating pizza, audibly delighting in the experience. 

Nadine can’t remember the last time she’s witnessed an actor eating a carbohydrate. She raises an eyebrow in curiosity at Meenu’s presence. 

“She make you work this late every night?” 

Meenu smirks, clearly more than familiar with all the horror stories of nightmare assistant gigs. 

“This is a special occasion,” Frazer interjects, swallowing her bite hastily, “we’re celebrating.” 

“Pizza party for having competent security professionals for the first time in your life?” 

“Oh god, I didn’t even think of that, that’s good though,” Chloe mumbles around a mouth of cheese (Nadine feels like she should be disgusted at the sight but she can’t find it in herself to be), “no, I have to start training for the next film tomorrow, so we’re having one last day of hedonism before I can’t do anything fun or delicious for the next year.” 

“I thought it only took three months to film?” 

“Yeah,” Frazer sighs, “but then I have to stay in shape until we do the press circuit, because god forbid anyone have a normal human body on the red carpet. Maybe I should get you to train me,” Frazer gestures at Nadine. “You’re what? Five percent bodyfat? Tops?” 

“Hmmm, maybe, but not exactly a Hollywood bombshell body,” Nadine laughs. 

“Their loss,” Frazer shrugs, looking Nadine up and down pointedly. “You want a slice?” 

Nadine’s about to protest (Frazer’s right, she does try to take care of her body, even if it’s not for the camera), but Meenu is already shoving a slice into her hands, and she _is_ pretty hungry now, her nerves over the first day of a new job having kept her off her usual eating schedule. 

“Just this once.” 

“That’s what they all say the first time,” Frazer winks. 

They eat together, Nadine mostly listening and humming in response as Meenu and Frazer chat, discussing Meenu’s current run of disastrous Tinder dates. 

“I just think a guy should have it on his profile if he lives with his parents! Is that too much to ask?” 

“Tell me that he at least had bedsheets.” 

“And pillowcases,” Meenu affirms. “Could’ve been worse.” 

“I don’t know how your generation does it, meeting so many people online. It _scares_ me. And how do you know if you have chemistry?” 

Meenu scoffs. 

“Your generation hitchhiked! I don’t want to hear any lectures about safety.” 

Frazer raises her hand in defeat. 

“No more. But when you find a keeper I would like to meet him, to give my seal of approval.” 

“Yes, mom,” Meenu rolls her eyes. 

“Alright, kid, get out of here. And take tomorrow off. I’ll be cranky from eating leafy greens and you don’t deserve to bear the brunt of that, at least not on day one.” 

Meenu hugs Frazer goodbye, and scampers out the door, waving to Nadine on her way out. 

Frazer yawns. 

“Well, I better hit the hay if that 8 am appointment with my trainer is going to happen. Make yourself comfortable. Ganesh has a habit of bouncing off the walls around midnight; don’t be alarmed by that.” 

Nadine nods, and Chloe walks back to her bedroom. Nadine hears the telltale sounds of someone turning in; faucets running, doors closing, a pillow being gently fluffed. The house falls silent after that, though there’s still the constant hum of a city, never fully still. 

Nadine sets out her laptop on the coffee table, answers emails and runs logistics while staying on high alert for any interruptions. She’s got a few leads on some of Frazer’s more vicious internet trolls, and after cross-referencing certain posts and forums, compiles three dossiers that she passes on to a contact at the FBI. The information isn’t directly related to Frazer— the types of people who threaten women for holding feminist positions publicly tend to also run in violent extremist circles. If Nadine can neutralize threats by getting them sent down for other charges, Frazer doesn’t have to collaborate with cops, or even know that the threats ever existed. 

(There was a time when Nadine would’ve bristled at letting some field agent take credit for her investigative work; now she’s a pragmatist. Glory is for suckers.)

Dawn signals the end of her shift, the June sun indistinguishable from any other time of year here, other than a slightly earlier arrival. Frazer is just waking as Nadine packs up her things, and confirms Ellie’s arrival for her shift. 

“How are we going?” 

“Smooth sailing,” Nadine smiles, aware that managing Frazer’s emotions is as much of the job as the rest of it. 

“That’s good.” Frazer plods into the kitchen, turning on the kettle and dumping coffee into her french press. She wears an oversized t-shirt and nothing else. Nadine can’t imagine being so un-self-conscious with a relative stranger ( but then again, Frazer probably has wardrobe and makeup people seeing her naked most days on set). “I think I felt it or something; I haven’t slept so hard in years.” 

“Our bodies evolved to sense safety. We’re like any other animal, really, when it comes to our nervous systems.” 

“Looks like Ganesh felt safe, too.” Frazer gestures to his perch on the arm of the sofa, snoozing peacefully on top of Nadine’s discarded jacket. 

“I don’t want to disturb him,” Nadine laughs. 

“You can just pick it up tonight, then,” Frazer offers. “Thank you. I really appreciate everything you and your team are doing for me.” 

Her eyes are kind and genuine, so Nadine accepts the gratitude for what it is. 

“You’re very welcome.” 

_ 

The routine falls into place quickly and easily; Nadine doesn’t love working nights, but as long as she keeps a routine she can handle it. She leaves Frazer’s house at 6 every morning and heads to the gym for two hours, before returning home for dinner (breakfast? Meals lose their meaning on third shift), chores, and a bit of mindless tv before sleeping from 12-7. Frazer is too busy with her grueling training regimen to give the rest of the team too much trouble, though Maria gets the honor of following along on a bouldering expedition one Saturday. 

Frazer remains friendly with Nadine, always chatting for a few minutes when she arrives each evening. Most of her longterm clients begin to ignore her after a few days (two weeks, tops), which she doesn’t mind at all, but Frazer insists on knowing her, and making herself known. 

“Can I take a picture of you? For my instagram?”

Nadine weighs the question. On the one hand, being part of the spectacle doesn’t accomplish any objectives. On the other, making public the knowledge that Frazer has a bodyguard will deter many would-be threats out of fear or laziness. 

“Ja, go ahead. But wait a few days to post.” 

Frazer agrees to the conditions and instructs Nadine to cross her arms and look intimidating. 

(It’s not a difficult pose to assume.) 

Frazer looks satisfied with her shot, and bids Nadine goodnight, leaving her to her usual routine of documenting threats, managing payroll, and playing with Ganesh when there’s not anything else to do. 

A couple days later, when she’s checking Frazer’s social media posts routinely, she sees the photo Frazer had taken a few days ago, noting the caption: 

_DON’T CROSS ROSS!_

_Listen folks, i’m not jazzed about being in a position to need a security team, but I’m grateful for these hardworking women and the tough job they do keeping your favorite overpaid mouthy action heroine safe. If you thought about fucking with me I bet you thought twice once you saw those guns, eh? #IThinkShesMoreBadassThanLenaCrane #andCouldDefinitelyBeatHerInAFight_

Nadine feels herself blush, although she’s not sure whether it’s from embarrassment or enjoyment. She’s… not used to public praise like this. 

Out of curiosity, she scrolls through the comments and… _oh_ . She’d known Frazer had a pretty passionate gay fanbase but she had never considered the possibility that they’d be commenting about _her._

“Nadine!” Frazer greets her enthusiastically when she arrives that night. “You are _popular!_ Half the gals in the comments think you should take my job.” 

She pouts, but it’s clearly fake, and a shit-eating grin soon takes its place. 

“I don’t suppose I can make you delete the picture?”

Frazer pauses for a moment. 

“If you really want me to, of course, love. Although there’s probably plenty of screenshots floating around at this point… sorry.” 

To her credit, Frazer looks truly remorseful.

Nadine sighs, running her hand through her hair, before pulling it back into a ponytail. 

“It’s fine… I’m just not crazy about being in the spotlight.” 

“They’ve got a short attention span, don’t worry. I’ll post a half-naked workout selfie in the morning and all will be forgotten,” Frazer grins. “If I’m going to have to forsake all of life’s pleasures, I might as well get some fucking attention for it.” 

Nadine considers which pleasures might be permissible under Frazer’s workout plan, and realizes that she’d asked her to stay in her house at night without any discussion of… other guests. 

“Ms. Frazer, if you ever want me to do my shift from the car, so you can have privacy, that’s no issue.” 

“If only,” Frazer laughs. “Honey, I know I’m marketed as a sex symbol, but finding someone who’s not a creep or an asshole is hard enough when I _don’t_ have people threatening to kill me. Lucky for me, vibrator technology has improved in leaps and bounds over the past couple years.” 

Nadine flushes. 

“Still, even if you want privacy for yourself, I’m happy to oblige.” 

“I’ll save the loud stuff for the weekend crew.” 

Nadine manages not to choke, and she’s pretty sure her voice doesn’t sound too strained when she responds. 

“Nice of you not to deprive Ganesh of his playmate.” 

“Being a mother changes you,” Chloe deadpans, “you learn to put your own needs aside.” 

“You know, you should sell that testimony to the tabloids, might help repair your image.” 

“My image doesn’t need repairing, thank you very much! I’ll have you know being an amoral temptress sells a lot more movie tickets than being a family woman.” 

“Fair enough,” Nadine laughs. 

“Speaking of image, though… there is a potential… complication of which I may have neglected to inform you.” 

Whatever it is, it can’t be good. Nadine lets her face say as much. 

“Right. So. The next film I’m shooting, you may have noticed my co-star hasn’t been announced. We’ve been keeping it under wraps but the news will leak soon so I thought you should know.” She takes a deep breath, readying herself. “It’s Sam Drake.” 

“Sam Drake, as in, convicted felon and destructive alcoholic Sam Drake?” 

“That’s the one,” Frazer smiles brightly, hoping to charm her way out of the worst of Nadine’s ire. 

“Sam Drake, as in the brother of the _Nathan_ Drake whom you had a _very_ public affair and breakup with?” 

“The very same!” 

“It’s not going to help with the harassment. It’s going to give us a lot more noise to sort through to identify credible threats.” 

“Well, you _are_ good.” 

Nadine pinches the bridge of her nose. 

“Why are you making this so much harder on yourself? I can’t imagine they chose Drake for the project without you fighting for him. He’s expendable. He’s washed up! No one wants his redemption story.”

Frazer looks at her for a moment, deciding whether to give her the rehearsed answer or the truth. 

“Okay, you’ve been adjacent to the business for a minute, yeah?” 

Nadine nods. 

“So you know that the industry runs on nepotism and favoritism. Sam and Nate are pretty much the only people I’ve ever worked with who _earned_ their place in front of the camera. Which is probably why the critics laugh at us, and no one takes our films seriously, and yeah, maybe Nate gets the chance to pivot into ‘serious’ films, but me and Sam? We’re the wrong’uns of the film world.” 

“So, what, you feel like you owe him?” 

“He’s my _friend_. And he’d do the same for me. Look… I’ll be 40 soon. This could very well be the last movie I shoot. Sam’s been through hell, and despite appearances, he’s actually very good at what he does. I’d rather work with him than some pompous asshole trust fund brat.” 

Nadine bites the inside of her cheek, holding back her less polite opinions of Drake. 

(She’d met him once, working a private party. He’d gotten wasted and attempted to challenge her to a fight. He’d grazed her with a cheap shot before she’d pinned him in a leg lock, after which he’d promptly passed out. She is not overly fond of the man.) 

“When do you expect the news to surface online?” 

“Wednesday at the latest,” Frazer grimaces. 

“Try not to get into any twitter fights about it?” 

“Now Nadine, you know I never make a promise I can’t keep.” 

“Can’t blame me for trying,” Nadine shrugs. 

“And I appreciate your efforts. So very much. Hey, you’ll get to know Sam when we shoot! Might change your opinion of him.” 

“Ja, I doubt that.” 

“He’s sober now. He’s different.” 

“That’s what they all say the first time,” Nadine taunts. 

Chloe laughs all the way to her bedroom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, my research is shoddy and i'm writing at the level one would expect for uncompensated labor. thank you anyhow for reading!

The news about Sam Drake drops and the fallout is as unpleasant as expected, but not in a way that seems to directly impact Frazer’s safety. 

She is, however, obligated to do a bit more ass-kissing of studio types in order to keep production on-schedule and funded, which means more trips out, for dinners or parties. 

Frazer is insistent on driving herself everywhere, which normally isn’t too much of a problem (she doesn’t drink while training, and while she’s an impulsive driver, she’s not difficult to follow), but at tonight’s soiree, she’s apparently met her limit of sober socialization, and totters out onto the sidewalk, a man twenty years her senior on her heels. 

Nadine normally lets Frazer handle herself unless a threat is imminent; she prefers to do things her own way, and it’s not worth a fight most of the time. But Nadine has a feeling she can probably defuse the situation with a bit more finesse at the moment. She’s out of her SUV and beside Frazer before either party notices her arrival. 

“This guy bothering you, Frazer?” 

(She makes a point to puff out her chest a bit, accentuating the “SECURITY” lettering on her shirt.) 

“Nothin’ I can’t handle, love,” Frazer assures her. “I’m gonna kick him in the balls if he gets handsy.” 

Nadine glances at the man, who looks sheepish (probably more at her presence than Frazer’s threat). 

“Why don’t you go back inside and enjoy the party, sir.” 

“I’m happy to get her home,” he offers, and Nadine briefly considers pinning his arm around his back, twisting a little bit, just to drive her point home, but opts instead for flexing her arms and narrowing her eyes. 

“If you want it to remain a good night, I suggest you go back inside.” 

He relents, and Frazer giggles as she watches him scamper up the steps, eager to get as far away from Nadine as he can. 

“I’ve never seen you be _scary_ before,” she stage whispers. 

“Normally I don’t have to be,” Nadine rolls her eyes. “At least not in this line of work.” 

“Someday I’m gonna get _you_ drunk and you’re gonna tell me all your war stories,” Frazer slurs, leaning closer to Nadine and swaying a bit off-balance. 

“You cool?” 

Nadine searches Frazer’s face.

“I’m _fine._ Got bored. Drank too much on an empty stomach. Tale as old as time.” 

“Who was the guy?” 

Frazer shrugs. 

“Does it really matter?” 

She spits out the last word, the consonants harsh against the balmy night. 

“I suppose not,” Nadine agrees, before gesturing to her SUV. “Hop in, I’ll drive us back to the house.” 

Frazer pouts. 

“I want to take my car.” 

“I’m not letting you drive in this state.” 

“Fine, you drive _my_ car then.” 

Nadine does the mental math— they’re about 5 miles from Frazer’s place (which is a 20 minute drive in LA traffic); she can manage walking to her car in the morning in lieu of hitting the gym, save herself an Uber fare. 

She holds out her hand for the keys and Frazer presses them into her palm. Her fingertips linger, dragging across the sensitive skin, as if she were reading her palm. Nadine suppresses a shiver and starts the car without fanfare. 

Frazer is quiet at first as Nadine drives, either remorseful for her inebriation, or introspective. 

It takes Nadine a moment to get used to the car— it’s a similarly modest choice to Frazer’s house, a Honda Civic from the early 2000’s that handles surprisingly well for its age.

“I can’t believe you still drive this old thing,” Nadine mutters, shifting gears. 

“I bought that car with my first big paycheck. I’m going to drive it until it disintegrates,” Frazer yawns. 

“You’ve certainly put a lot into it,” Nadine hums appreciatively.

“Had a habit of doing stunt driving off-set in my twenties. Count yourself lucky I don’t do it too much these days.” 

“Ja, don’t think my SUV could keep up.” 

“Especially not with the way you drive,” Frazer scoffs, “like a bloody pensioner.” 

“It’s my job to keep you safe, Frazer.” 

“Yeah, well, what if I die from boredom?” 

Nadine suppresses a chuckle at the melodramatic whine in her voice. 

“Lucky you, we’ve arrived at our destination. Looks like you’ll live.” 

Frazer shoots Nadine a dirty look but climbs out of the car without protest. 

Nadine locks the car, deadbolts the door of the house behind Frazer, fetches her a glass of water and brings it to her once she’s sitting on the couch in the living room. 

“I’m sorry,” Frazer apologizes, accepting the glass from Nadine’s outstretched hand. “I know that was irresponsible of me.” 

Her eyes are still a bit glassy, but she’s sobered up noticeably since leaving the party. 

Nadine’s usual response to this situation would be to shout at Frazer, hammer home how her choices impact her own safety as much as anything her security detail can do. But Frazer’s remorse is genuine. She’s learned her lesson, whatever it was. 

“Was there something that knocked you off your usual game tonight?” 

“Other than having to listen to old men talk about themselves for two hours?” 

“Ja, figured that’s old hat for you by now. And you have the upper hand on them when you’re sober.” 

“Listen, I still very much had the upper hand,” Frazer insists, falling silent for a moment before continuing, softer this time. “I’ll be the same age when we shoot this film as my dad was when he died.” 

“Well a crisis of mortality would drive one to drink.” 

Frazer stares off, absentmindedly petting Ganesh, who’s hopped up into her lap in a show of support. 

“He was a stuntman in Bollywood. Died in an accident when I was 9… the industry just moved on like he meant nothing…” 

“That’s awful. I’m sorry, Chloe.” 

Nadine doesn’t notice her slip-up at first, until she catches Frazer’s self-satisfied smirk. 

“Well gosh, if I knew revealing my formative grief would have gotten you to call me by my name I’d’ve done it a lot sooner. Anyway,” she sighs, “that’s why I do all my own stunts— I refuse to put anyone else on set in any danger that I wouldn't take on for myself, and it makes egotistical directors wind their necks in on the bigger risks.” 

“That’s… surprisingly noble.” 

“I’m full of surprises, mate,” Frazer winks. 

(Yeah, she’s very much still intoxicated, despite the emotional clarity of the last five minutes.) 

“Well I have a feeling _you_ won’t want to be surprised by your personal trainer in the morning so maybe you’d better call it a night?” 

“I hate that you’re right.” 

“I usually am, Frazer.” 

She pouts, but doesn’t press the issue. 

It’s almost 2am; regardless of how much sleep Frazer gets, she’s probably going to be a terror come dawn, but that will be Meenu’s problem, not Nadine’s. 

She’s still dead asleep when shift change rolls around; Nadine leaves a fresh glass of water and a bottle of painkillers on her bedside table, and begins the long walk back to her car. 

_

Chloe Frazer keeps stricter hours the rest of the week; she’s in bed by the time that Nadine arrives each evening, merely sleepily drawling out “hullo, love” instead of chatting with her as normal. 

Nadine wonders if she’s intentionally avoiding her, pulling back after oversharing the other night. 

(She doesn’t particularly care, other than noting a deviation from the established norm. She’s not paid to talk, after all.) 

Maybe that’s why Nadine finds herself with more free time in the very early morning hours; without any distraction from Frazer she’s able to stay on top of emails, monitor threats, and review contingency plans with time to spare. 

It’s around 4am and she’s feeling restless, so she opts for some floor exercises to get her blood pumping and clear her mind. Halfway through a set of pushups, she feels a set of paw pads on her shoulders; ten seconds later she hears the shutter sound effect of a cell phone camera. 

(She finishes the fucking set.) 

“Don’t you _dare_ post that.” 

Frazer covers her heart in mock offense. 

“Please, china, this is for my personal files. Never know, I might need to blackmail you some day.” 

“Har har, very funny. Why are you awake, anyway?” 

Frazer shrugs. 

“Couldn’t sleep. Never can in the month before shooting. Once I’m on set, I thrive on the long hours and adrenaline, but the waiting game bloody _kills_ me.” 

“Maybe you should do more pushups; helps me pass the time.” 

Frazer cackles. 

“Sorry, babe, I prefer to watch.” 

“Speaking of the shoot, though, we should start securing your travel itinerary. And think about at least setting up a camera system here while you're gone, monitored by my team around the clock.” 

Frazer sighs. 

“I’ll have Meenu email you tomorrow. _Today_ , rather. You know I don’t like logistics.” 

“Just winging it’ doesn’t cut it anymore, sorry, _babe_.” 

“Touché. Violent misogynists ruin all the fun, don’t they?” 

“That’s what I always say,” Nadine nods, straightfaced.

Frazer insists on passing the rest of the time until daylight by making Nadine teach her various self defense moves. She’s particularly enthralled by a leg sweep, laughing maniacally each time Nadine knocks her on her ass. 

“Oh, that’s _brilliant,_ I’m gonna have to use that on Sam.” 

“I already did.” Nadine offers her an arm to pull her back to a standing position (wrist-to-wrist, always, strong and secure). 

Frazer balks. 

“Hold up— not only do you know Sam personally, you’ve beaten him in a fight?” 

“Not like it was hard,” Nadine sneers. “But yeah, I had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting him on one of his rowdier nights while working a job. He shut his mouth pretty quick once I had him pinned to the ground.” 

“Who _wouldn’t_? Lucky guy.” 

(Nadine chooses to ignore the ribbing.)

“Who knows if he remembers, but I rarely forget a grudge.” 

“Don’t cross Ross,” Chloe teases. 

Nadine knocks her legs out from her again. Not like she wasn’t asking for it. 

_

Nadine has to pass off one of her shifts to Constance this week in order to take care of getting a camera system set up and operational before Frazer leaves to film. There just aren’t enough hours in the day sometimes, and her team is always happy to take delegation from her; no big deal. 

Frazer has met the whole team; some of them have been in closer proximity than others but she knows everyone and they know her. Still, Nadine feels the need to… warn Constance about Frazer’s one-on-one energy, as she texts her to confirm the schedule. 

_Frazer can be… flirtatious? Just ignore her and she calms down, don’t worry_

**Got it ;)** is the only response, until the morning when Constance sends a final update. 

**Hmmm she must just like to flirt with you, boss :( she just asked me about how i liked working for you and then she made me show her photos of my boyfriend. Lucky you, eh?**

Lucky her, indeed.

_

Nadine is fairly certain she isn’t the first person in the world to have a sex dream about Chloe Frazer. 

That practically comes with the territory of being a celebrity, no? People fantasize about you whether you want them to or not. 

(Nadine is _not_ going to think about whether Frazer would want _her_ to or not, it’s entirely irrelevant to the situation and certainly won’t help her get over her brain’s betrayal.) 

So, when she wakes in a cold sweat to the midday sun shining through her curtains and a _very_ vivid image of Frazer… doing and saying _things_ … burning a hole in her head, she does her best to write it off as long hours and a socially codified attraction to fame. 

(It probably means something that she doesn’t actually see Frazer’s very famous, objectified body in her dream, but instead only her face, between her legs, fucking _smirking_. Nadine isn’t interested in analyzing those details to death though; thirty-five is too young to die of a heart attack.) 

Nadine tries to avoid becoming attached in any form to clients, sure, but it’s easier to avoid feelings when working for entitled old men… and since Nadine ignores Frazer’s constant flirting and innuendo on the job, this is just her brain’s way of filtering through the noise in sleep… or something. 

She’s sure Frazer will do something soon enough to annoy her, or disgust her, or otherwise put a firm damper on this subconscious attraction. People pretty much always do (she’s tried to explain this to her mother, when questions about why she’s never been romantically successful come up, to no avail). 

But in the meanwhile, she can set some emotional distance. 

_

The next two weeks are relatively _fine_. Meenu, true to Frazer’s word, passes on every pertinent detail for the film shoot (with the studio cutting it close to the wire on securing locations, certain details stay in flux until the last minute, but Nadine’s dealt with higher-pressure situations, no worries). Nadine gives terse enough answers to Frazer’s nightly questions that she doesn’t push her luck, at least, not until tonight. 

“Nadine, aren’t you from South Africa?” 

“Cape Town,” Nadine answers automatically, walking into Frazer’s home to find her perched on the living room couch, deep into what looks like a google wild goose chase. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, we’re shooting about an hour from there, you know.” 

“And?” 

“Dunno, just thought, you probably don’t get the chance to go home much, we could probably squeeze in a day or two off for you to visit.” 

It’s a generous offer. Nadine doesn’t necessarily _want_ to visit her family, but she also knows that if her mother finds out that she was anywhere near home and didn’t make every effort to see her she will _never_ hear the end of it. 

But on the other hand, leaving Frazer to her own devices? Unwise at the best of times. 

Nadine grimaces. 

“It’s kind of you to suggest, but you’d have to come with me, most likely.” 

“Even better,” Frazer grins. 

“No, you don’t understand… My mother can be a _lot_.” 

“Good, we have that in common.” 

“You know what, I’m actually an LA native, this accent is fake, and I do not have and have never had any family to speak of.” 

Frazer crosses her arms. 

“Nadine, I’ve already snooped in your phone to find your mum’s number. I’ll call her myself if I have to.” 

“You wouldn’t—” 

“Oh, I _would_.” 

Figures, that in all her concern about security breaches on Frazer’s end, Nadine hadn’t considered her own info-sec on-duty. 

“What else have you stolen off me?” 

“Oh, come on, I was a pickpocket in my reckless street-urchin days, let me have a bit of fun every now and then!” 

Nadine glares, and Frazer hands over a pocket knife that Nadine had been convinced she’d lost last week. 

“No more trophies. I’ll call my mother in the morning and let her know we’ll be visiting.” 

“God, this is more exciting than big explosions and fancy fight scenes, I can’t fucking _wait_.” 

“Scarier, too,” Nadine grunts. 

“I bet _she’ll_ call me Chloe.” 

Nadine laughs. 

“She’ll make you autograph the napkin you use at dinner. She’ll ask for gossip about every co-star you’ve ever worked with. And _then_ , she’ll ask you why _I_ haven’t settled down and given her grandchildren yet.” 

“Sounds like my mum,” Frazer snorts. “She read every tabloid story about me and Nate, was _absolutely_ convinced I was going to have his baby and all, called me in tears when he and Elena got married. God love her.” 

“I already know _your_ mother’s phone number. Maybe I’ll give _her_ a call.” 

“You _wouldn’t_.” 

“You’re right. I wouldn’t. Because I respect people’s boundaries,” Nadine glares for emphasis. 

Frazer just chuckles. 

“Give my regards to your mum, love. Tell her I’m a huge fan of _her_ work.” 

_

Miriam Ross is a serious woman. She’s a lawyer, an activist, and a cornerstone of Cape Town’s Progressive Jewish community. She does not, on the surface, appear to have the time or energy for frivolities. 

But Miriam Ross? Is also a _tremendous_ fan of action movies. She claims it’s cathartic, to see the good guys win and the bad guys get their asses kicked; to engage in stories where moral issues are clearly defined and villains get what they deserve. 

Her favorite franchise is _Lena Crane_ , and the main reason Nadine had even known who Chloe Frazer was in the first place was being dragged to the movie theater with her mother each time a new film came out and they were in the same place. 

This had gotten more difficult when she had taken over her father’s company; even more difficult still when she left the country with her tail between her legs. 

But now, Nadine has the chance to make it up to her, in spades. 

“To what do I owe the honor of my firstborn’s lovely voice on my telephone?” 

(Miriam Ross is also a masterful executor of a subtle motherly guilt trip) 

“Hi, Ma. Sorry it’s been a while. I’ve been pretty busy, you know?” 

“Making it in a man’s world, I know how it is, Nadine. But the business is going well?” 

“Very well, actually,” Nadine smiles, happy to have a positive update for once. “That’s actually why I was calling.” 

“Oh?” 

“Well, firstly, I need you to promise that you can keep a secret for at least a few months, yeah?” 

“ _Liefling_ , I kept my mouth shut for 12 hours straight of interrogation back in my protest days. I think I can handle your little celebrity gossip” 

“Okay, well, my client is shooting close to you in a couple weeks, and she offered to give me the day off so I can come see you.” 

“Oh, that’s wonderful news! But I’m not sure what’s so secretive about you visiting me, other than the fact it happens rarely enough no one would believe me if I told them.” 

“Well, she’s coming with me to see you. I mean, she said she wants to meet you? And I know you’re a fan, so that seemed easier than arranging extra security for a few hours’ time…” 

“Nadine, are you going to tell me who it is, or am I going to have to play twenty questions. I haven’t got all day.” 

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting some important knitting?” Nadine teases. 

“When you’re cold and shivering at night because I didn’t get to finish this blanket, then you’ll be sorry,” Her mother retorts. 

“You remember Chloe Frazer, from the Lena Crane movies?” 

“Oh, Nadine, how could I forget! The most badass woman in Hollywood! You’re telling me _she’s_ coming to visit? Oy, vey, two weeks isn’t enough time to prepare. What does she like to eat? You know, I can get the guest room set up if she needs a place to stay for the night.” 

“She’s surprisingly down to earth, ma, don’t stress yourself too much. We won’t be stopping for long and… she likes coffee.” 

“Well if I start cleaning now I suppose I can be ready by the time you land.” 

Nadine can _hear_ her mother rolling her eyes from across the world. 

“I’m excited to see you, ma.” 

“Do you think she’ll tell me what happens in the script?” 

“I love you, too,” Nadine laughs.

“I love you, Nadine. Be safe. And keep _Chloe_ safe!” 

“That’s the idea.” 

_

Nadine has a few choice stress dreams in the final days leading up to their departure, but nothing too dramatic (forgetting all her luggage; not remembering how to find her mother’s house; accidentally letting Ganesh out and him escaping). The video camera system for Frazer’s house is installed, secured, and only she and her team have access to the video feeds. 

Meenu is house-sitting, in addition to the team’s usual surveillance, and Nadine has an encrypted chat set up with round the clock updates, so she can stay in the loop, even in a time zone 10 hours ahead of LA. 

Frazer insists on driving them both to the airport in her shitty old car (though Nadine declined the offer to be picked up at her place), and it feels a little silly to know that Ellie is trailing behind them, until they’re through security, but today is one of the riskier public outings, all in all. 

Frazer travels light, with the knowledge that wardrobe will have her covered for all the important bits. Nadine notes her pedestrian ensemble; scuffed work boots and jeans that are actually worn, not just artificially distressed. 

(Most people of her wealth and fame opt for expensive athleisure on flights; sneakers that cost a thousand dollars and t-shirts made of exorbitantly expensive cotton blends.) 

“You can take the girl out of Tasmania, but you can’t take the Tasmania out of the girl,” Frazer winks, kicking off her boots to run them through the scanner. 

Nadine is grateful for the relative portability of modern technology. She can work from a laptop and smartphone for this entire trip, which is a far cry from the unwieldy mobile intelligence stations of her earliest Shoreline days. Living out of a hotel for 3 months isn’t ideal, but at least there’s cell reception, and laundry service. 

Frazer moves confidently through the airport, but Nadine sees the hyper-awareness behind her eyes, the worry that somewhere in this sea of people is a threat. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“I’ll be glad once we’re in the air.” 

“I hate planes,” Nadine confesses. 

“I mean, statistically, they’re safer than driving down the street.” 

“Yeah, but if g-d wanted me to fly she would’ve given me wings,” Nadine laughs. 

“If you need to get shitfaced I’m sure I can handle myself for the duration of the flight,” Frazer offers. 

“Nah, I’ll be cool. Better than a helicopter, at least.” 

Nadine catches up on emails in the terminal while Frazer scrolls through her social media feeds, occasionally showing Nadine a particularly amusing animal photo or a monstrously bad twitter take. 

“Ganesh is going to be so sad when you’re gone, poor thing. He barely tolerates me now, as is. Meenu’s got her hands full.” 

“I gave her extra treats for him,” Nadine admits. 

“Oh my god, you’re _adorable_.” 

Nadine’s cheeks burn. 

“And now you’re blushing!” 

“Just say thank you for the treats, Frazer,” Nadine grumbles. 

“Thank you for the treats, Frazer.” 

Their seats are together, in the back of the plane (of course Frazer’s insistence on normalcy extends to miserable transatlantic flights) , and Frazer stops for a few selfies with the crew before guiding nudging Nadine towards the window seat. 

“Shouldn’t I be in the aisle, logistically?”

“It’s a control thing. Humor me, for once?” 

Nadine bites her tongue before she can list the many times she’s already given Frazer an inch. 

It’s essentially twenty-four hours of non-stop travel, and Nadine is exceptionally aware of how close Frazer is to her for almost all of it; arms brushing on the small armrest, Frazer leaning her body weight against her when she begins to get drowsy, her own attempts to squeeze past Frazer to walk to the restroom, wondering if the burn of her eyes on her body is a figment of her imagination. 

Nadine has done pretty well wrangling her subliminal crush on Frazer (resolutely continuing to refuse to call her Chloe, even in her mind, helps), but god, Frazer is making it difficult at the moment. 

It’s becoming very _liminal_ , actually. 

Not to mention a fucking cliche. 

Rumor has it that Frazer has a habit of hooking up with co-stars; it’s a bit of a relief to think of that happening, giving Frazer someone else to stand too close to and whisper in _their_ ear. 

Too bad it makes Nadine feel like she’s going to throw up. 

They have a quick layaway in Amsterdam (Frazer bemoans the inability to hit the Red Light district with Nadine, to see her “loosen up for once in her goddamn life”), and then they board the next flight; similar routine to the last. 

Frazer agrees to sleep in shifts, and they’ve managed to each grab a couple hours on each flight, but Nadine still feels bleary eyed and disoriented when they land in Cape Town, evening the next day after their morning departure from LAX. 

Nadine secures the rental vehicle (a Jeep, suitable for getting to the various wilderness locations of the shoot) and Frazer insists on carrying their luggage (“ _I’ve already missed a workout day, Nadine, these guns need to look good on camera!_ ”). 

Meenu’s booked them adjoining rooms at a hotel close to the airport tonight, aware of how exhausted they’ll be. Tomorrow is entirely free for visiting Nadine’s mum (Nadine’s pretty sure she knows what her nightmares tonight will be about), and tomorrow they’ll start their long-term stay in a hotel closer to the shoot. (It’s smaller, a bit out of the way, and will basically be overrun with the entire crew, heaven help them.) 

“Can I drive _now_?” Frazer asks, hungrily sizing up the vehicle before her. 

Nadine should probably say no, but she also knows that Frazer slept much easier than her on the flight (she unfortunately has the drool mark on her shoulder to show for it), so for now, she’s happy to play navigator. 

Riding shotgun allows her to appreciate the familiar heat of home, as late spring begins to transition to summer. She’s begun to get used to LA, but being near all the sights and sounds and smells she grew up with makes her realize just how much they were missing. 

Frazer glances over at her briefly, and Nadine knows her eyes are a bit shimmery. 

“No place like home, huh?” 

“Something like that.” 

“I keep meaning to go back to Australia… it’s been years now. Think I’m a bit scared, honestly.” 

“Of your mother?” 

Frazer laughs. 

“That, too. I don’t know, I’m afraid I’ve been away too long. It won’t be the same, or I won’t be. But I have this little secret dream of running away from Hollywood and buying like… a sheep farm or something back home.” 

“You’re already got the shoes for it,” Nadine jokes. 

“Exactly. I mean, I feel kind of obligated to stick it out, long as I can— you’ve seen the _nice_ fan mail I get.” 

Nadine nods. It’s clear Frazer means a lot to a lot of people. Nadine can’t imagine what that kind of pressure feels like. 

“I’d be surprised if my mother hasn’t sent some. She’s a much bigger Lena Crane fan than you’d expect a 65-year old woman to be.” 

Frazer beams. 

“I’ve got that cross-generational appeal, babe. Are there any Ross grandchildren? Because babies _love_ me.” 

“Ah, I’m afraid the family line stops with me and my ticking biological clock. Please don’t give her any ideas on that front.” 

“Deal.” 

Frazer parks the Jeep in the hotel lot, shaking Nadine’s hand in honor of the pact. 

Nadine has a feeling this trip home is going to be like visiting a whole other world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you made it this far despite no smoochin' yet, bless you. your patience will eventually be rewarded <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe meets Nadine's mother! Film shoots happen! FEELINGS GET CONFESSED????

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: descriptions of violence, mentions of alcohol

Chloe sleeps like a ton of bricks, meaning Nadine needs to wake her if they’re going to make it to her mother’s on time. She pounds on the door adjourning their suites. 

“Frazer?” 

“Hmmmmph.” 

“It’s already 10; we need to leave in an hour.” 

She gets another grunt in response, although this one could be characterized as indignant, rather than merely drowsy. 

Nadine gives her 15 more minutes, but when it’s clear Frazer’s simply gone back to sleep, she opens the door. 

_ Apparently, _ Frazer sleeps in the nude. Sheets optional. 

“Aw, shit, fuck, sorry,” Nadine yells over her shoulder, turning away immediately, “can you just please wake up?” 

Frazer rolls over, stretches (Nadine wonders if she learned that move from Ganesh, or if he copied it off her), and yawns, completely unbothered by Nadine’s presence (and her own state of undress). 

“Oh, come on, I’m pretty sure half the world has seen me naked by this point.” 

Her voice is low and rough with sleep, and Nadine hopes very much that her blush isn’t visible. 

“Not. The. Same,” she stammers. 

“You mean you didn’t buy that centerfold that came out 15 years ago?” Frazer teases, mercifully throwing on clothes for the day. 

“Not really my thing,” Nadine rolls her eyes. “Though I think that particular magazine was pretty popular among the men I worked with back then.” 

“And they say chivalry is dead,” Frazer winks. “Alright, if you can find us a half-decent cup of coffee, I promise I will be the absolute loveliest guest your mum has ever met.” 

“I can do that,” Nadine nods. 

She takes Chloe to a small cafe not too far out of the way en route to her mother’s. It’s on the outskirts of Cape Town’s gay neighborhood, a place she’d spent a lot of time in her teen years, yearning to get out from under the weight of her mother’s scrutiny and her father’s expectations. The decor and staff are different now (as is the coffee), but there’s still a comforting sense of nostalgia as they step inside and order their drinks. 

Frazer picks a table in the back corner, by the window so she can people-watch but not be as visible as the outdoor seating. Nadine thinks the way Frazer navigates her fame (graciously for the most part; avoiding unnecessary interactions with fans but deftly managing when they do arise) is as much a skill as anything she does on-screen. 

“So,” Frazer begins, after a hearty sip of her quadruple-shot latte, “anything I should know before I meet your mum? Is there a script I should stick to, any no-go topics of conversation?” 

The mere fact of Frazer’s presence will probably keep her mother from picking a fight, which is weirdly comforting. She hadn’t expected Frazer to take her feelings into consideration, really, other than the simple fact that she was giving them both time for the visit. 

“She’ll probably complain that I’m not sleeping enough and that I’m still single, but that’s nothing new. If we could avoid talking about my father that would help,” Nadine laughs. 

“Yeah? Is there a story there or?”

Frazer’s concern looks genuine, not like she’s fishing for gossip. Thinking back to what Frazer’s shared with her about her own background, she opts for disclosure. 

“He died a couple years ago, but theirs was a… complicated marriage. I think she struggles sometimes with the ways I took after him.” 

Frazer nods. 

“If it helps, I’m happy to tell her that _ I  _ think the sun shines out of your ass.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Just sayin’. Hearing it from  _ the _ Chloe Frazer? Indisputable.” 

“I’m going to call her and cancel, you keep pushing your luck.” 

“Well, I can’t imagine she’s anything other than proud of you. A self-made woman? Small business owner  _ and _ cat whisperer?” 

“Oh, geez.” 

Frazer distracts her with Ganesh photos Meenu’s sent. She leans her head in close, pressing her left hand absentmindedly to Nadine’s knee as she scrolls through her phone. 

Her touch feels like an anchor.

_

Nadine’s mother welcomes her with a firm hug before stepping back and scrutinizing her face, leaving her squirming a moment before nodding in approval. 

“I think California’s been good for you,  _ liefling.”  _

Frazer gives a shy little wave (uncharacteristic for her, but Mrs. Ross has intimidated far more outgoing people), hanging back a bit as the family has its reunion. 

“Oh, right,” Nadine self-corrects. “Ma, meet Chloe Frazer. Frazer, this is my mother, Miriam.” 

Frazer beams, giving her mother the full dazzling-movie-star experience. 

“Come in, come in, please,” her mother beckons, ushering Frazer inside. Nadine closes the door and puts aside their shoes and bags while her mother begins to talk Frazer’s ear off. 

She hasn’t been in this house since her father had died. it’s evident time has begun to ease some of her mother’s wounds; fresh flowers live on tables and counters in brightly colored vases, little indicators of frequent social visitors pop up on coffee tables and chairs (a forgotten umbrella here, an extra copy of the book club selection, there). Her mother’s voice echoes off the hardwood floor, vivacious. 

“You know what I love most about you, Chloe? You stick to your principles. I admire that. People say Hollywood is so liberal, but I know that the powers that be would rather you didn’t speak your mind. Not many people have your chutzpah!” 

Nadine swears she sees Frazer blush, and well, this visit might be worthwhile for that alone. 

“What can I say, Miriam— I feel obligated to use my platform for good, where I can.” 

“Well you have my undying support, know that. I met Nadine’s father at a protest, actually. We really thought we were changing the world back then… and I guess we did. My husband strayed from his ideological roots, with that mercenary business, but I’m glad Nadine got away from all that. She wasn’t happy at first, but I told her, I said, ‘this is your chance to forge your own path,’ and look at her now! Head of security for a movie star.” 

Nadine’s ears burn at the rare praise.

“I’m lucky to have her.” 

Frazer smiles at Nadine, reassuring her that her mother’s interrogation is fine, really, and she’s not  _ completely _ bullshitting her answers. 

“Ma, Frazer’s had a long couple of days; how about you and I catch up while she answers emails. We can make coffee.” 

Frazer moves to protest but Nadine’s glare dissuades her. The last thing she wants is for Frazer to have to be ‘on’ for the entirety of this visit. 

“I’ll join you when it’s ready, yeah?” 

Her mother accepts the offer as a promise, and joins Nadine in the kitchen. 

“Well, she’s just as lovely in person as you’d think, isn’t she?” 

Nadine shrugs. 

“You’re the fan, not me. But as far as celebrity clients go, she’s remarkably in-touch with normal people, sure.” 

“You’re taking care of yourself? Eating well, getting enough sleep?” 

“Ja, as much as I can.” 

“I just don’t want to see you work yourself to death, you know your father practically brought his heart attack upon himself.” 

“I won’t.” Nadine focuses her eyes on the kettle, busies her hands with the manual coffee grinder. 

“Speaking of _ not  _ working… is there anybody special back in California I should know about?” 

Nadine’s amazed they’ve managed to go fifteen minutes without an interrogation about her romantic prospects. Might be a new record. Alas. 

“I’ve been working nights, Ma. Hard to date around that.” 

“You could make time if you wanted to,” her mother frowns. 

“Look, the business is finally solvent, and I’m only having to work twelve hours a day instead of sixteen, so you know, give it a few more months and maybe I’ll  _ consider _ trying to date again.” 

“You know I only want you to be happy.” 

“Ja, Ma, I know.” 

The kettle whistles, an auspicious interruption, and Nadine begins the pourover ritual (her mother is a tea drinker, but she’d adapted her setup when Nadine informed her of Frazer’s beverage preferences). 

Nadine carries a tray back out to the living room, where Frazer has made herself comfortable on an overstuffed chair, scrolling on her phone. 

“Everything cool?” 

“Hmmm, yeah, just looking over some things for tomorrow.” 

“You start filming right away?” Nadine’s mother offers Frazer a mug of coffee. 

“Pretty much,” Frazer nods. “We did some pre-production work back in LA, training for fight sequences and such. The heavy lifting will happen here for the next three months, then green-screen and ADR and hopefully the film is ready to go for a late-May release.” 

“I don’t suppose you can tell me what happens in the script,” Miriam winks. 

“Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise, love,” Frazer laughs. 

“I don’t know how you do all those stunts, it seems so scary to me.” 

“Gosh, I bet Nadine’s faced down worse on a daily basis. Maybe  _ she _ should be the action star.” 

“Poor thing has stage fright like you wouldn’t believe,” her mother tsks. “Mumbled through the entirety of her bat mitzvah, then high-tailed it to the restroom to throw up. Entirely camera shy, our Nadine.” 

“We get the point, Ma,” Nadine scowls. 

“I’d say her work is a bit more important than mine, anyhow,” Frazer switches back on the charm. “You must be incredibly proud of all that she’s done.” 

“I am, I am. But you know, I do wish she’d find someone to share this incredible life she’s built! And you know, maybe even give me grandchildren— she doesn’t even have to carry them, I’m  _ very  _ open-minded— Chloe, maybe you could set her up with someone in your circle?” 

Frazer’s eyes sparkle with mirth, and Nadine is once again regretting this visit. 

“Oh, gosh, I’m not sure any of my friends are good enough for Nadine. She’s  _ special, _ you know?” 

“I trust your judgment,” Miriam reassures her, “but keep an eye out.” 

“Ma, are you staying busy?” Nadine redirects. 

“Oh, sure, you know, I think I work more in retirement than I ever did before. And no, no gentleman suitors.” 

“Notice how I’m not pressuring you on that front?” Nadine taunts. 

“It’s a mother’s prerogative! I’m thinking about getting a dog, though. Would be nice to have the company.” 

They page through dogs up for adoption on the local shelter website for a bit after that; it’s a pleasant enough way to spend time together without talking about all the invisible wounds between them. Maybe that’s the measure of adulthood; having the grace to ignore one another’s pain points. 

Miriam looks to Frazer’s approval for each puppy she has an eye on, while Nadine offers practical considerations (“You don’t want a retriever— you don’t even have a yard for it to run around in.”) 

They settle on a small mutt, about thirty pounds, not tiny enough to have a Napoleon complex but able to handle two walks a day without tugging her mother away on the leash. 

“Well, maybe if I get approved to adopt he and I can come visit the set!” 

“Oh, that would be amazing!” Frazer gasps, as Nadine simultaneously warns “That’s probably not a good idea.” 

“You know what,” Frazer agrees, “Nadine’s probably right on this one; apologies. Film sets are harried at the best of times, and well, I have hired her for a reason.” 

“For shame,” Miriam frowns, “I can’t believe anyone would want to harm  _ you _ . I mean, I  _ can _ , but I don’t like it  _ one bit _ .”

“You and me both, sister. Now listen, I know we don’t have much time, but I would  _ love _ to see Nadine’s baby photos if you’ve got them…” 

_

“Well, that went pretty well, didn’t it?”

Frazer looks at Nadine through the corner of her eyes; insistent on driving them to their home for the next three months (“ _ This is the last bit of control I’ll have for ages; grant me a little mercy _ ”). 

Nadine takes a deep breath, evaluating the afternoon. Her arms are still half-clenched in anticipation of her mother’s needling, but all in all it will be a nice visit to look back on, rather than a source of guilt and consternation. She feels profoundly grateful to Frazer for making it so. 

“Ja. You were actually a pretty helpful distraction… thanks.” 

“I know it’s hard to feel like it, with mums, but I can tell she’s exceptionally proud of you.” 

Nadine laughs ruefully. 

“Why do you think parents seem to tell that to everyone but their children?” 

Frazer shrugs. 

“I think it’s a boomer thing. They’re like, allergic to therapy, you know? I mean, I was skeptical at first myself, but you don’t make it long in LA without finding yourself a psychoanalyst.” 

“It was good to see her, face to face. Know she’s actually doing okay instead of just telling me so.” 

“Alright, so even if this shoot goes tits-up it was a worthwhile venture!” 

Nadine glares. 

“I’m not superstitious enough to believe in jinxes, but I still don’t appreciate that remark.” 

“I kid, I kid. It’s gonna be super. I feel it in my bones.” 

_ 

The shoot is _ not  _ super. 

Nadine hasn’t worked much in film, but she’d guess the erratic outbursts of the director aren’t most folks’ cup of tea. 

The fact he’d insisted everyone call him only by his last name was probably indicative of a power trip, in retrospect. 

Frazer had returned from day one of shooting covered in mud and grease and looking mad as hell. 

“I swear to god if Asav makes me do one more fucking reshoot so he can zoom in on my ass I will quit this fucking shoot, Sam Drake redemption arc be damned.” 

Nadine’s catching up on emails when Chloe gets in (set has enough security she’s not concerned about being there so much as saving her energy to work nights) and she pauses to take her in. 

It’s… rough. 

“That guy is a jerk. Worked a big private party for him once and he made me and my team wear costumes, like the fact we were women was a sexy little gimmick.” 

“You must have really needed the money, huh?” 

Frazer wrings out her hair over the vanity sink 

“Yeah.” Nadine pauses, wondering whether she should divulge the whole story of that night. “I fucked his wife, felt like good payback at the time,” she tosses off as a nonchalant aside.

Frazer cacklees in delight. 

“Nadine Ross, you  _ dark horse. _ ”

Nadine shrugs, only a  _ little _ embarrassed. 

“It was practically an act of public service.” 

Frazer grins. 

“Well rumor has it she just left him, hence the even worse mood than usual. But wow, you know, now that I can think about that every time he flies off the handle, I just might make it through after all.” 

“Happy to be of service.” 

“I’m sure you were that night, heyoooooooo!” 

It’s not, in fact, a proud memory for Nadine. For one, she’s never been into casual sex. And she’s not in the habit of using other people, at least not any more. Shoreline was a different story, but in the private sector, she’s tried to make moral decisions, when possible. One could argue that Mrs. Asav practically threw herself at her, but it still didn’t make it the mature or noble choice, getting her off in a bathroom while the guest of honor commanded an audience outside. 

Still, seeing Frazer’s smile in this moment makes it worth it, in the end. 

She heads for the shower and an early night, and Nadine does a perimeter check before deadbolting the door again. 

It’s like that for a few days, constantly busy. Nadine comes out to set a few times in the afternoon, just to get a feel for things, gather whether the security team there are diligent or lazy. 

(They seem okay, if unconcerned about her opinion of them, and her instincts are usually good.) 

She notices that in-between takes, and on breaks, Frazer seeks out the crew or extras, asking them questions, remembering their names. 

(Sam attempts to emulate this quality by referring to everyone as “buddy” and “pal.” It’s not the same, and everyone knows it.) 

At one point, Drake notices her, and does a double take. Frazer walks him over towards Nadine. 

“The magic of Hollywood, eh, Ross?”

“You look happier today, Frazer. Is Asav being less of a dick? “ Nadine glares at Sam. “ _ Drake.  _ Hope you’re more sober than the last time we met.” 

“Clean as a whistle, I promise.” He holds up his arms in surrender. 

“Still smokes like a bloody chimney,” Frazer scoffs. 

“Let me have  _ one  _ vice!” 

“Buddy, if I have to kiss you on-camera I am  _ going _ to complain about it.”

“Hope you’re getting hazard pay, Frazer,” Nadine quips. 

“If I didn’t fear you immensely, I would take offense to that joke,” Sam pouts. 

He walks off, to flirt with someone at craft services, and Frazer turns to Nadine. 

“Everything cool? You don’t usually come out here. I mean, not that we’re far enough in to have a ‘usual,’ but still.” 

Nadine nods. 

“Like to meet folks face-to-face where I can. You getting on with everyone, besides Asav?” 

“Couple of the other actors are right assholes, but yeah, I think it’ll be smooth sailing all-in-all. Good that the last Lena Crane film we do is easy, I think.” 

“How do you know it’s the last?” 

Frazer laughs. 

“We’ve done a lot of things that require a suspension of disbelief, but I think a resurrection from the dead isn’t gonna happen. Best not to hold out hope, isn’t it?” 

“Oh, wow. Did you know they were gonna kill you off?”

“I had accepted the possibility. And it’s fine, really, you know I’ve been wanting to step away from the spotlight, reevaluate. My fee’s big enough to pad the retirement fund with room to spare, you know I’ve never been lavish with my spending.” 

Nadine starts to respond, but the break is over, and needs must. 

_ 

A month into shooting, Nadine gets a dismaying update from Ellie. 

_ Came across an anon poster on 4chan who says he’s working on the film shoot and making threats against Frazer. Could be a troll, but thought you should know. Whoever it is, they know their cybersecurity- couldn’t track down anything identifiable.  _

Well, shit. 

There are a  _ lot  _ of people involved with the shoot. Fewer who have direct access to Frazer, but then again, she tries her best to talk to everyone. It’s unlikely someone would attack her in the midst of everyone, but it’s still a risk. 

Nadine takes the information to Asav, hoping he’ll let her interview the crew, or at least get better access to hiring records. 

“Miss Ross, I’ve got a very busy schedule and I don’t have time for your micromanaging,” he huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re looking well, though.” 

His stare makes her skin crawl. 

_ Fucking prick.  _

“I’m just asking to have a list of names to send to my team in LA.” 

“And I’m telling you that no one questions my hiring decisions, okay?” He sneers. 

“Fine. If anything happens I’m holding you personally responsible.” 

“Good luck with that, sweetheart,” he calls after her. 

_ 

Nadine goes around Asav’s back, hanging out on set and asking the friendlier crew to let her know if anyone seems suspicious. Frazer gives her a few questioning looks at first, but they’ve built enough trust that she doesn’t push back. 

Nadine doesn’t mind the long hours she’s giving herself too much; they’ve got a roof over their heads at night and she’s not shooting at people, so all in all it’s still a relatively easy gig. It’s nice too, to see Chloe Frazer the loveable movie star in action. The local crew sometimes bring their families, when there’s not a spoiler-heavy day of shooting, and Frazer takes selfies with kids, makes faces at babies. She doesn’t seem to be getting close to anyone on a romantic level, though; it’s clear several of the crew have coupled up (oh, to be twenty-two and have no work-life balance), but Frazer’s dynamic with Sam when the cameras are off is more sibling-rivalry than tempestuous showbiz fling. 

Asav has a reputation for seducing actresses he works with (Nadine feels like that verb is overly generous), and gives Chloe a fair share of lechery but she manages to deflect it without getting fired or using any of the moves Nadine taught her on Asav. 

Midway through the second month of shooting, Chloe has her 40th birthday, and naturally celebrates by buying beer and pizza for the entire crew, chatting and drinking with everyone well into the night. 

“Well, that was exhausting,” she laughs, for once allowing Nadine to drive them back to the hotel. 

“You look like you thrive on that energy,” Nadine observes. 

“Oh, I mean, yeah, in small doses. But I’m kind of a loner, too, you know?” 

“You’re too well-known to be a loner,” Nadine laughs. 

“A lot of people know  _ of  _ me,” Chloe agrees. “Not a lot of people  _ know  _ me.” 

Nadine nods, not quite sure how to answer other than agreeing. 

“I feel like you do, though.” Chloe’s voice is quiet, like the admission is something she hadn’t meant to let slip out. 

So Nadine pretends it hasn’t. 

_ 

The one thing that Nadine’s father had drilled into her head, over and over, was that complacency kills. 

Comfort is the most dangerous thing to have— it makes you sloppy, careless. 

Nadine has grown  _ exceedingly _ comfortable with Chloe Frazer. 

She knows how her breathing sounds when she’s deep asleep, and when she’s faking. She knows what jokes will make her laugh and what will make her roll her eyes. She knows that she’d rather drink cheap lager than fancy IPAs, and that she thinks most expensive shit actually tastes awful. 

It’s the second to last day of the shoot, and everything is finally wrapping up, knock on wood. The stunts have gone off without a hitch, no one has been injured despite months of arduous filming in less-than-ideal conditions. Frazer’s joy is infectious when she returns to the hotel room around 11 pm. 

“Oh my god I can’t believe we’re done tomorrow. I’m going to sleep for a week fucking straight.” 

“Congrats,” Nadine smiles, unable to keep the warmth off her face. 

“Honestly, I’m too fucking tired to shower, I’ll just let hair and makeup take care of the worst of it,” she sighs. 

“Suit yourself. Let me do my perimeter check— wait here.” 

The halls are empty as usually, and maybe Nadine rushes, or doesn’t fully focus, thinking too much on how happy Frazer had seemed. She asks herself a million questions in the aftermath, wondering where things went wrong. 

(She’d gotten too fucking comfortable.) 

Nadine’s opening the door back to the room, when all of a sudden someone comes up behind her. 

She turns quickly to face the attacker, but Frazer is on her in the blink of an eye, tackling her body to the side so the crowbar that was about to come down on her head glances off her cheek instead. 

The assailant wears a balaclava and doesn’t speak; he starts to break into the room, running towards Chloe.

“Stay there, Chloe, don’t fucking move!” Nadine shouts, before springing forward to tackle him, and redirect his momentum towards the hall. She holds him in a leg lock, getting in a few choice punches, but he’s got her by 50 pounds, and manages to scramble out her grasp and run away. 

Nadine considers giving chase, but if he’s working in a group, that leaves Chloe alone. She picks up her cell phone instead, calling the police. By this point, people have begun to filter into the hallway, wondering what all the ruckus was about. 

For once in her life, Chloe listens. When Nadine returns to the room, she’s sat on the bed, shaking. 

“What the  _ fuck _ was that, Chloe?” Nadine yells, unable to stop the anger from leaving her body. 

(She’s mad at herself, more than anything, but her rage needs a target right now.) 

“Sorry, no ‘ _ thank you for saving me from a blunt force trauma, Chloe _ ?’” 

“I can’t keep  _ you _ safe if you’re concerned about  _ me _ getting hurt,” Nadine hisses. “And I would’ve been able to disarm that guy and get a good hold if you hadn’t pulled that shit. He would’ve been arrested right now, instead of on the run.” 

“I’m sorry, Nadine, for  _ reacting  _ to seeing you in danger,  _ Jesus _ .” 

Chloe’s still not  _ getting _ it, and Nadine wants to explain that she would not have tried to save any of the security team on set, or even the other women on her usual detail, but sirens fill the parking lot and uniformed officers storm up the stairs. Everything sounds dull and muffled under the pounding of Nadine’s heartbeat in her ears. 

Nadine explains the situation, gives her description of the man’s build, any other characteristics she can remember about his clothing. Chloe does the same, but Nadine knows that plenty of violent crimes go unsolved every day. Chloe’s fame might help, then again, it might not. She got in a few good hits, but not enough to really slow him down if he’s good at running.

(Although, if Ellie was correct, they can simply note who doesn’t show up to work tomorrow and that will narrow the leads considerably.) 

It takes two hours for the cops to finish dusting for prints (Nadine’s almost certain the attacker wore gloves), and cordoning off Chloe’s room as a crime scene. Chloe moves her things into Nadine’s room next door, brushes off the people asking her if she’s okay and insists she just wants some quiet, that now that there’s extra bodies on guard she’s okay. 

Nadine deadbolts the door, wipes away some of the blood that’s dripping down the gash on her cheek. 

“Let me,” Chloe insists, wetting a washcloth with warm water. “I can get the medic for you, you know.” 

“Pretty sure nothing’s broken,” Nadine grunts. “I’ve had black eyes before.” 

Chloe’s hands burn into the tender skin of her face, a stark reminder that she is still very much alive. It stings, but she leans into the touch anyway. 

“You’re mad at me.” 

It’s a statement, not a question. 

“I’m mad at myself,” Nadine admits. “I shouldn’t have let it get to this point.” 

Chloe is indignant at the suggestion that Nadine bears blame for the attack.

“Nadine, you had no way of knowing that was going to happen, I know you and your team have been working around the clock, and I know Asav has tried his best to make your job impossible. Bastard probably wanted me to get taken out, thought it would help his box office.” 

“That’s not what I meant,” Nadine rasps, fighting back sudden tears. Her eyes water and it feels like her heart has leapt to her throat, making swallowing or speaking near impossible. 

Chloe finishes cleaning Nadine’s cut, letting her fingers trail down to caress Nadine’s jaw. Her hands shake, but her gaze is steady and solid.

It cuts Nadine like a knife through hot butter. 

“So, what, it would’ve been okay if I hadn’t _ reciprocated  _ your feelings?” 

The question is a little bitter, but also genuinely curious. Of course she’d seen right through Nadine’s attempts at compartmentalization, all along. 

“One could argue that an emotional attachment on my end is an asset to the job,” Nadine whispers. 

“It’s not like I did it on purpose, Nadine. You’re… I don’t see how I could have  _ not _ wanted to throw myself in front of all manner of things for you,” Chloe exhales, her body slumping, the adrenaline of the past few hours lingering between them. 

It’s such a non-event, this mutual confession, more of an aside than a big moment, but Nadine knows this epilogue to the day’s events changes more going forward than the attack itself. 

“I can’t work directly with you anymore. Behind the scenes stuff, sure, unless you want to switch to another firm entirely, but Maria or Constance will take over 3rd shift when we get back to the states.” 

“Well, gosh, good thing this happened two days before our flight home, so you’re not too put out with my presence,” Chloe rolls her eyes. 

“ _ Chloe, _ you know that’s not—”

“I like the way you say my name,” Chloe interrupts. “Wish you’d done it more.” 

The silence  _ hurts. _ Nadine takes slow breaths in through her nose, looking at the wall to keep from breaking. 

“You had a lot of people wanting to check in,” Nadine deflects, “is there anyone else you need to talk to tonight?” 

Chloe shakes her head. 

“Nothing that can’t wait until morning. Hey, good job I didn’t get any bruises, eh? Can’t wait to shoot those intense close-ups tomorrow.” 

“You should try to get some sleep, then,” Nadine finds herself yawning. “Easier said than done, I know.” 

Chloe meets her gaze, giving her an imploring look. 

“Would you— would you stay with me?” 

“I’m planning to keep watch on the couch, don’t worry.” 

“No,” Chloe’s voice drops, vulnerable. “I mean, would you lie next to me in the bed? I just, god, it’s stupid, but having you physically near me makes me feel safe.” 

“I shouldn’t—” 

“Nadine,” Chloe pleads, “ you know I don’t use this word often.  _ Please. _ ” 

Nadine nods, unlacing her boots and tossing them aside, but otherwise remaining clothed. Chloe lies down on top of the covers, scooting to the edge of the bed and making room for Nadine to get settled before easing herself back, nestling her back into Nadine’s front. 

Nadine’s body is stiff as a board at first, but she lets herself relax, feeling the settling sensation Chloe had described ease into her muscles, the evening’s tension dissipating into the muggy night air. Eventually, she lets her arm rest across Chloe’s waist, protective. 

“You know,” Chloe says to the window, respecting the unspoken boundary of not facing one another in the bed, “it’s a testament to how much I care about you that I haven’t attempted to shag you. I mean, I just don’t  _ do _ crushes. Not for bloody six months. I feel like a fucking nun.” 

“ _ Chloe _ ,” Nadine warns, really not needing the mental image of Chloe Frazer in seduction mode on top of everything else swirling around in her brain at the moment. 

“Right. Sorry. Not helping. There’s that notorious Chloe Frazer mouth, spouting off again.” 

“Try to sleep, if you can. I’ve got you.” 

Chloe sighs, leaning back further into the gentle curve of Nadine’s body. She feels her shoulder blades against her chest, her hips against her pelvis. Their bodies fit perfectly like this.

It’s a bittersweet discovery. 

Frazer manages to sleep for two hours, before her alarm goes off again. Nadine’s exhausted as well, but she’s not leaving Frazer’s line of sight until she’s gotten her home. 

Once everyone’s out of hair and makeup, and the crew are milling about, set up for the first of the day’s shot’s, Asav gathers everyone around, intent on making a big speech. 

“I know some of you are aware of the attack targeting Ms. Frazer last night. Know that we have a team of security professionals here on set keeping you safe,” Nadine feels a pointed glare in her direction and fumes at the judgment in his eyes. “We aren’t going to let a violent madman keep us from finishing an incredible work of cinema, are we?” 

The crew gives a half-hearted grumble of assent, then Chloe steps forward, looking weary, but determined. 

“Hi folks. Listen, I’ll be blunt with you. I feel like shit today. I probably won’t do my best work, but let’s be honest, this is the technical bit where you lot do the magic and I just stand there and look pretty. And I am  _ so  _ grateful to have worked with you all these past months, and I want very much to knock today out of the park so we can all get shitfaced tonight, yeah?” 

(Her speech gets a much more enthusiastic rallying cry.) 

Nadine tries to spend the day following leads, but they’re all dead ends. No one remembers any suspicious crew members, and everyone’s at work today, no injuries in sight. 

Nadine’s gut tells her Asav paid off a local, but she doesn’t have anything to go on, and she’s not about to go wildly hurling accusations when the film is practically in the bag. All she can do is keep Chloe safe. 

(She’s given up on the compartmentalization; Chloe is  _ Chloe _ and always has been, and if she’d been honest about that from the jump, then maybe things could have been different.) 

Once filming is in swing, and the big security team has taken it’s posts, she gets a few hours of sleep before returning, in time for the final shot to wrap. 

Chloe pops a bottle of champagne, and everyone heads back to the hotel to party it up one last time. She plays the life of the party well, karaoke-ing “Love Shack” with Sam and dancing ridiculously with the younger crew members. 

Her eyes look remarkably sad. 

_ 

Nadine’s grateful for an early flight that means no time to sleep (or broach the subject of bedsharing again). She dons aviators to hide her black eye (it doesn’t hurt that they make her look like a fucking cop), and wordlessly accompanies Chloe through security. 

This time, she demands the aisle seat. 

Chloe doesn’t put up a fight. 

(She wonders if it helps, the fact that they’re so close. If Chloe can give up the control because she knows Nadine has her back, or if she’s simply doing it as a favor to her.) 

Chloe sleeps hard and fitfully. Her hand grips Nadine’s, fingers entwined. 

Things feel different at 30,000 feet. Nadine’s always found that she cries at movies that normally wouldn’t move her in the slightest at sea level. 

Heartbreak at cruising altitude is a bitch. 

The layover is silent, Chloe bringing Nadine falafel and coffee without discussion. Nadine scrolls through her messages, hoping someone has a tangible lead she can pass on to the authorities in South Africa. 

It’s all sound and fury. 

Nadine messages the team. 

_ I’m gonna need a bit of time off after this shoot. Who wants night shift? Have a feeling I’m going to be sitting behind a computer way more in the coming months.  _

Constance and Maria offer to split the night shift, and Ellie and Tracy offer to pick up extra shifts so everyone’s working equal overtime. They don’t question her reasoning, and Nadine is thankful for that. 

Chloe insists that Nadine sleep on the second leg of the journey. She closes her eyes, but her body doesn’t relax. It helps enough. 

Mid December doesn’t feel much different to any other time of year in Los Angeles, but when they land, the airport is decorated with Holiday trim. 

“Don’t worry, Nadine,” Chloe grumbles, tossing their luggage off the conveyor belt roughly,” I won’t corner you under the mistletoe.” 

She drives them home in silence, turning on the radio then immediately shutting it off when Mariah Carey starts singing “All I Want for Christmas Is You.” 

(Too on the fucking nose.)

“My birthday is December 25th,” Nadine offers, willing to spill any secret if it means Chloe stops looking at her like she yanked out Ganesh’s remaining canine with her bare hands. “My family doesn’t celebrate Christmas, but when I was a kid I assumed all the fuss was for me.” 

“That’s adorable,” Chloe mutters, angry at herself for being charmed by the story. “Figures you’re a bloody Capricorn, though. You and your damn rules.” 

“What, and because you’re a Scorpio you just disregard them?” Nadine laughs, incredulous. “I don’t buy into astrology, anyway.” 

“Spoken like a true Capricorn,” Chloe sing-songs. 

It’s mid-morning when Chloe pulls up to the curb by her home. 

“So... If this were a movie, I’d pull you in for a  _ really _ good kiss right about now, and say fuck the rules,  _ I want you _ .” 

If only.

“It’s not a movie, Chloe,” Nadine chokes out, exhausted on every possible physical and emotional level.

“Don’t I know it,” Chloe sighs, unlocking the doors and cutting the engine. “It’s been fun, china.” 

Nadine tries to move things back to a professional sphere, reassure Chloe that everything will be okay.

“You’re in good hands with Ellie. She’s in much better shape than me.” 

“I like your shape very much,” Chloe pouts. 

“You can still call me if you have security concerns. We just need space for a while.” 

“What if it doesn’t go away?” 

Chloe’s lip trembles, and Nadine wants very much to give her that movie-ending-kiss. 

“You’ve got a huge new film coming out, Frazer. There'll be lots of parties and beautiful people and opportunities. You’ll get over it. “

  
Whether  _ she  _ will is another story entirely. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god i PROMISE they're gonna smash in the last part don't worry babies 
> 
> (it will probably also be way too long, but needs must)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has everything: feelings, smut, and a happy fucking ending

After a week back in the states, Nadine isn’t the only one who’s exhausted. Chloe’s apparently kept a restless schedule, running constant errands, acting irritable, and exasperating her team. 

Nadine hopes it passes, once Chloe feels safe again in her LA routine, but she makes a point to give everyone bonuses in their next paychecks. 

Her first order of business is keeping track of the inevitable news break of Chloe’s would-be attack. Chloe’s publicist is good (if at the end of her rope; Frazer gives her enough difficulty in the best of times) but someone on set was bound to leak the story eventually. 

They react preemptively with a statement to the press, as soon as whispers of the story begin to emerge online. It reads as authentic to Chloe’s voice, though Nadine can tell where the language has been tempered to be slightly more professional. 

  
  
  


_ Recently, while shooting the new Lena Crane film in South Africa, I was attacked by a masked assailant at the hotel where I and the rest of the crew were staying. Fortunately, due to my security team, I, as well as the rest of the crew were unharmed. Unfortunately, my attacker escaped, and is currently being pursued by local authorities. I did not wish to acknowledge this event publicly for two reasons: 1) Publicizing the attack emboldens others (hi! I get a lot of threats from day to day, actually!) and 2) While I work hard to protect my physical safety, and my mental health, I don’t want to have questions about either thing hurled at me on red carpets or press events. I’ll share any updates on my terms, or not at all.  _

_ I’m happy to talk about Lena Crane, my cat, or Sam Drake’s terrible dad-jokes <3 _

__ Nadine cringes at the mention of mental health— she’s not been without nightmares since the attack, and Chloe’s been under a much higher level of pressure on all fronts, save for the physical blow to Nadine’s face. Chloe has a therapist, a full team of people besides her looking out for her, but she still feels… guilty. But any comfort she might be able to offer wouldn’t be worth the complication. 

_

Gradually, life resumes a somewhat mundane routine; Nadine feels the absence of her interactions with Chloe like a dull weight in her chest, full and hollow like the cactus tree in the Joni Mitchell song Chloe had made her listen to one night, trying to explain her own inability to settle. 

But weight gets easier to carry, in time; what began as a painful wound becomes a quiet pinprick of acknowledgment throughout the day: wake up, notice she misses Chloe; filter through threats and draft security plans for upcoming events, notice she misses Chloe; work out, notice she misses Chloe; go to sleep, notice she misses Chloe. 

(Dreaming is another matter altogether. In the moments just after waking, Nadine sometimes has the phantom sensation of Chloe’s warmth, her smell, the sound of her laugh all lingering around her.) 

The distance brings clarity: Nadine is able to follow leads (or outsource them to others) without distraction, make decisions without worrying about Chloe’s comfort (her safety, yes, but convenience sometimes gets disregarded). 

3 months after returning to the states, when the film is set to premiere in a week and the press cycle has fully amped up, one of her old Shoreline contacts in South Africa comes through with a snippet of evidence. 

It’s not much: a substantial ATM withdrawal by Asav, and 2 calls from his phone to a local with a rap sheet half a mile long. Enough to confirm Nadine’s bad feeling about the man, but nothing that would convict in a court of law. 

As a mercenary, Nadine would “present” the evidence directly to Asav, and make a convincing argument of breaking his legs (or worse), but show business generally requires more finesse. 

She assembles the entire team, along with Chloe and Meenu, and shares the update, asking Chloe what steps she wants them to take. 

Chloe laughs bitterly. 

“I mean, what  _ can _ we do? John Landis and Roman Polanski are still working, why would Asav be any different? I’d bet my life he paints me as a hysterical diva who brought the attack upon myself and it’s only due to his leadership that things weren’t worse. Fucking psychopath.” 

“But what about protecting actors?” Meenu frowns, dismayed to see Chloe defeated. 

Chloe crosses her arms, contemplating. 

“Victor knows a few journalists who are good enough to follow those leads. Wait until we’re through the premiere cycle, then he’ll get you in touch. Bad press is the only thing that will deter studios from working with him.” 

Nadine nods her understanding. 

“The silver lining is that since his motive appears to be pinning the success of his film on your… tragic death, you should be much safer now that you’re away from his set.” 

“Tell that to my body’s trauma response,” Chloe rolls her eyes. 

Nadine grimaces, but pushes forward with the briefing, keeping things all-business. 

“We’ll still have a full team for the LA premiere, and we’ll keep the cameras at the house up at least until the end of the press cycle.” 

“Fine, fine,” Chloe sighs, sounding uncharacteristically defeated. 

Nadine wants to reassure her, wants to describe just what she would do to Asav if she got her hands on him, but she can’t. 

She’s no longer in the business of revenge. 

_

Chloe seemingly recovers enough to give a dazzlingly charming run of interviews to promote the film (careful to avoid the spoiler of her character’s death, which feels especially grim now.)

There’s one clip, on a late night talk show, that goes viral on Twitter (leading to an uptick of internet threats amongst the praise and delight of Chloe’s fans): 

**Host: So, you’ve had a really long time to get to know Lena Crane, over the course of four films and more than a decade. What’s one thing you have in common with her, and one difference between Lena and Chloe?**

**_Chloe: Hmmmm. Well, we both have an awful habit of thinking before we speak, getting into a bit of trouble for that…_ ** _ (pauses, as the audience laughs)  _ **_As far as differences go, you know, Lena’s only ever had male love interests, and I’m a bit more open-hearted than her_ ** _ (chuckles).  _

**Host: Okay, so if Lena had a female love interest who would you cast?**

**_Chloe: Ooooh, I think a May/December situation with Katherine Marlowe’s character would be a lot of fun._ **

**Host: Isn’t she a villain?**

**_Chloe: The heart wants what the heart wants, Steven_ ** _ (audience laughs)  _

A fan has posted the clip with the caption “Did Chloe Frazer just come out as bi?????” to the tune of 10,000 retweets, one of them from Chloe herself. 

_ @chloefrazer: well, i started acting old enough that i never considered myself “in,” but since i’ve been just as hopeless dating women as i am with men, the press never caught on! So let’s make it official, shall we? I’m proudly bisexual xoxo _

Nadine feels her pulse pound in her ears as she reads the tweet, feels her whole body vibrate with excitement. 

It’s stupid, really— what does Chloe’s statement change for  _ her _ ? All it means is Chloe’s feelings weren’t a fluke; that of all the complications preventing anything resembling a relationship between the two of them, sexual orientation isn’t one of them. But underneath her own dismissiveness, Nadine can’t deny the sparkle of what feels very much like  _ hope. _

_

The next three months pass uneventfully, in the way that life becomes a blur in retrospect; monotonous and grueling in the moment, to merely “the time between point a and point b” in past-tense. Nadine spends most of her working hours behind a computer screen, monitoring video feeds and communicating with her team as they handle the on-the-ground work. She’s hypervigilant, sleeping four hours a night and then, only under the duress of physical exhaustion. It’s not a sustainable way to live, but it’s distracting enough that sorrow stays at bay. 

Chloe does most of her big events on Sam Drake’s arm, but reinforces the fact she thinks of him as a brother in interviews. Fortunately for him, Asav isn’t present for the promotional cycle (Nadine’s not entirely certain she could keep her promise not to physically harm him if she encountered him again), choosing instead to cultivate an air of mystery (or distance himself from the filthy masses, more like). 

The film itself gets mediocre reviews but does well at the box office; Chloe’s fans lament the loss of one of their favorite characters and she faces down questions about what comes next now that  _ Lena Crane  _ is officially over. 

(“Carbohydrates” is her go-to answer.) 

Nadine spends more time fielding prospective contracts than anything once the film is out of theaters; Chloe has passed on her leads to a journalist who vows to investigate every set Asav has ever run, but things are quiet for now, other than a few rumblings among whisper networks. 

She’s wary about taking on additional work, but in June, almost a year to the day after Victor Sullivan’s initial call to her, he rings her again. 

“Nadine, I want to start by saying you’ve done what no one else could do. Working with Chloe for a full year? You deserve a medal.” 

Nadine laughs, feeling unexpectedly light at the news. 

“Am I being relieved of my services?” 

“Unfortunately, yes.” Victor sounds sincerely apologetic. “But half of my other clients are interested in hiring your team for contract work, if you’re interested.” 

“Set up the meetings, Victor. And thank you.” 

“Thank me? Nadine, I think we all know you’re the one who did me a favor. Enjoy the break from Chloe… you’ve earned it.” 

Nadine ends the call and sets down her phone, unable to stop the smile from tugging at her face. It’s foolish, perhaps, to feel hopeful at this point, but Nadine can’t keep the spring out of her step for the rest of the week. 

_

Nadine’s afternoon (sorting through contracts, happy day) is interrupted by a facetime notification. 

Chloe’s number is still saved in her phone, though she had studiously avoided looking at her contacts for the past six months. Still, there’s no hesitation when she answers. 

“Hiya, love. Since you picked up, I’m guessing Sully talked to you?” 

The sun is lower in the sky where Chloe is, the environment clearly more remote than Los Angeles. Her skin looks tanned and warm and she looks… happy. 

“Thanks for firing me,” Nadine mock-scowls. 

“Anytime, darlin’,” Chloe drawls, winking. 

“So… you made it back to Australia?” 

“Mmmmmm, should’ve known you’d find me out.” 

“Lucky guess,” Nadine shrugs. “Why go now, though?” 

(And why wait until she’s halfway around the world to reach out?) 

Chloe pauses, but she doesn’t look wary, more like she’s centering herself. 

“My mum’s sick. And I gave her hell when I was a kid, so I figured I owed her a little company for chemo.” 

“I had no idea, Chloe, I’m so sorry,” Nadine murmurs. 

“No, I mean, she’ll be— they caught it early, and breast cancer is pretty treatable now. Still, I didn’t want her to be alone for treatment, so I’m here for a couple months, much to the chagrin of my very stubborn mother.” 

“I’ll reserve any observations about your personality similarities.” 

“Good girl,” Chloe laughs, pausing a moment to openly stare at Nadine. It’s uncomfortable, and electric, (and more than a bit wonderful) to just  _ look _ at one another. 

“It’s good to see you,” Chloe says, after their moment of mutual adoration. 

“Ja. It’s good to see you, too. Albeit over a screen. Is Ganesh with you?” 

Chloe chuckles. 

“Yeah, poor thing. Hates an airplane even more than you. I’m actually just waiting outside at the clinic for my mum to be done, but I’ll send you a photo of him when I’m back at the house? Sorry for not sending any earlier, but I didn’t want to impose…” 

“My son could  _ never _ be an imposition,” Nadine gasps, before allaying Chloe’s concerns. “But I appreciate you respecting that boundary, even if it means I didn’t get to see him.” 

“Of course, china,” Chloe nods, her eyes searching Nadine’s. “Listen… I don’t know how to do… this.” 

“Meaning?” 

Chloe waves her hand haphazardly in the air. 

“You know, feelings and maturity and a relationship built on a foundation of mutual respect and trust.” 

“Oh, _ that _ ,” Nadine laughs. “Ja, I don’t either.” 

“But I just thought… would it be alright if I called you every now and then? For the next bit? Is that an overstep?” 

Chloe looks unsure of herself. Nadine finds it terribly endearing. 

“I think that would be really nice.” 

_ 

They make a routine of it, navigating the 19 hour time difference between Los Angeles and Hobart without too much difficulty. Nadine calls Chloe, after their first conversation, since she’s got a more rigorous schedule. In between they text, almost constantly. True to her word, Chloe sends lots of cat pics, as well as photos of her mum, her childhood home, the Tasmanian landscape. 

Nadine feels like she’s boring in comparison, but well, Chloe did call  _ her,  _ so she must find something about her reasonably compelling. She sends her snapshots of signs that make her laugh, cute dogs she spots on her runs, and occasional workout videos, when she’s feeling particularly confident. 

She and Chloe had gotten close quickly when they’d worked together, but their conversations had mostly stayed superficial. With every call, more layers are revealed; Nadine hears stories about Chloe’s childhood scrapes and her first loves, she tells Chloe about her father’s legacy and her failure to uphold it.

“I’ve never thought about it until just now, but— you’ve killed people, haven’t you, Nadine?” 

Ah, there’s that famous Frazer tact. 

Nadine swallows heavily, looking away from her phone screen. 

“I’m not at all proud of it, but yes. Private military corporations aren’t often bastions of ethical decision-making.” 

Chloe doesn’t assuage her guilt or recoil in horror. 

“I’m sorry you were born into that work. You did good to get away from it.” 

Nadine nods, shaking off the reminder of who she used to be. 

“I don’t know that providing security to the biggest egos in the world is atonement, but at least I don’t have a body count.” 

“I think…” Chloe bites her lip, “If given the chance, I would’ve killed that bloke at the hotel to stop him from hurting you.” 

It’s a strange way to say ‘I love you.’

(But then again, Chloe’s plenty strange.) 

“I’m glad you didn’t have to.” 

_

Chloe’s mum seems to be doing about as well as she can through her treatment, and Nadine feels like she knows her even from fleeting glimpses of her on FaceTime, quick hello’s here and here. She seems in better spirits than Chloe somedays, as if Chloe’s carrying enough fear and worry for the both of them. 

“I know, I’m a grown woman, but god, I just couldn’t handle losing her, you know?” Chloe sniffles one afternoon. 

“It’s good you're there with her. Not everyone would make that trip.” 

Chloe sighs. 

“I really was an absolute arsehole of a teenager, Nadine. Angry about losing my dad, pissed off about living in the middle of nowhere, too cool for fucking school. Left home as soon as I could, scampered around the world and then bloody moved twelve thousand kilometers away. Talk about selfish.” 

“Most teenagers are selfish dickheads, Chloe. Your mum was probably one, too, at that age.” 

“Still… it’s been nice seeing her, though. Just talking, making up for lost time, I suppose. We’ve gotten really good at jigsaw puzzles, to boot.” 

“Maybe someday I can join you for one. We can get a big one made with a picture of Ganesh.” 

Nadine’s half-joking, but the impulse to make plans, envision some sort of future with both her and Chloe in it, is strong. 

“I’ll be holding you to that, love.” 

“So,” Nadine worries her tongue over her teeth, ”you know, you’ve talked to me about your ex-boyfriends, and the common trait there seems to be charming meatheads, but I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned what type of women you go for.” 

(The question is an effective distraction from talk of preemptive grief, judging by Chloe’s cackle or surprise and excitement. Nadine decides the risk was worthwhile, nay, necessary.) 

“ _ Well, _ ” Chloe begins, talking animatedly with her hands,” I did shamelessly flirt with Elena Fisher before I realized she and Nate were a thing. Her loss,” She pouts. “I dunno, Nadine, I think I’m enamored of almost every woman I meet.” She leans back in her chair, holding the phone above her head to capture her desired camera angle. “I’ve always been drawn to dark eyes, though. How about you? Any commonalities between the trail of broken hearts in your wake?” 

Nadine laughs. She wouldn’t exactly use that imagery to describe her love life over the past decade. 

“I like a bit of a challenge, I think.” 

Chloe raises a brow. 

“What about more than a bit?” 

“Ja, I like a big challenge, too. And I like a woman who can get her hands dirty.”

“Can I _ ever _ , love,” Chloe winks. 

Nadine yawns. Chloe frowns. 

“Sweetheart, much as I would love to sleep with you, I’d rather not listen to you snore over the phone. I’ll talk to you in the morning, alright?” 

“Didn’t realize how late it’d gotten,” Nadine murmurs. 

“Mmmm, time flies when you’re talking to the most charming woman in the world.” 

“I didn’t say I was into massive egos, Chloe,” Nadine rolls her eyes. 

“Not in general, sure. But I’m special.” 

“You’re  _ very _ special, Chloe. And perhaps against my better judgment I happen to like you a lot.” 

While she’d been unfazed by the earlier flirting, Chloe flushes at Nadine’s admission. 

“Well, you must be well and truly knackered if you’re saying nonsense like that. Night, love.” 

_

Nadine doesn’t quite realize how much her relationship (whatever it may be) with Chloe has infiltrated her life until her employees call her out on it. 

(Well, her soon-to-be equals, once the business officially transfers to a co-op model. Which is largely inspired by Chloe’s influence, so, point fucking taken.) 

She’s reading a text as she walks into a team meeting, and apparently her smile is a departure from the norm. 

“Either we just got a bigass contract, or Ross has a crush,” Ellie quips. 

“No contract,” Nadine sighs. “And no comment.” 

“Well, tell Frazer we say hello. Kinda miss the ol gal,” Tracy smirks. 

“I didn’t— it’s not— you all have a lot of fucking nerve,” Nadine stammers. 

“Relax,” Maria claps a hand on her shoulder. “We figured you two had either majorly fallen out or fallen in love on that film shoot. And now I owe Constance twenty bucks.” 

Nadine sighs, figuring that she owes her team honest if they’re going to respect one another, moving forward. 

“I don’t make a habit of mixing personal and professional boundaries.” 

“Yeah, we noticed,” Constance rolls her eyes. “Hope you’ll come to drinks every once in a while once you’re not the boss anymore.” 

“I hope you won’t judge me for my friendship with Chloe, but I understand if you think less of me. I won’t claim not to be a hypocrite.” 

Ellie shrugs. 

“Just invite us to the wedding, dude.” 

_

Three months after her initial call, Chloe’s mum is finished with chemo and by all signs looks to be in remission. 

“Listen, I’m going to be back in the states in a couple weeks, tying up loose ends—”

“Do you think you’re going to stay in Australia for good?”

“—let me finish, please. As I was  _ saying _ . I’m going to be in the states in a few weeks, and in addition to taking meetings I’m also hopefully selling my house, so. Could I stay with you?” 

“Wouldn’t you want to get a hotel?” 

Chloe looks at her like she’s the stupidest person in the world. 

“Nadine, if you don’t want to take this beyond long meandering phone calls and safe-for-work selfies, you can just say so.” 

Nadine chokes on her water. 

“I’ll pick you up from the airport.” 

_

Two days before Chloe flies back to LA, the Asav story breaks: decades of allegations of verbal abuse, unsafe working conditions, womanizing, and threats to all who dared oppose him. 

(Chloe’s attack isn’t included; Nadine had figured the scant evidence she’d had wouldn’t stand up to journalistic standards, but she had hoped other pieces would emerge.) 

She’s accosted by reporters when she leaves her gate, stopping her purposeful walk towards Nadine’s car to address the throng. 

“I stand with all those who had the courage to speak out against Asav’s misconduct. I hope that Hollywood has learned enough from its past mistakes to not let him work again.” 

“Oh, come on, give us something more candid,” one young gossip reporter needles. 

“He’s an asshole and I’ve never had a more miserable time than working with him. And as you can tell, by the giant shit storm that was the last Lena Crane film, he’s a shit director, too.” 

Chloe flips off the cameras for emphasis, then scurries quickly to Nadine’s car before she can be further deterred. 

“So, judging by that,” Nadine gestures, “I’m guessing you’re not too keen on acting again at the moment?” 

“She’s smart _ and  _ good looking!” 

“Did you want to drive? For old-time’s sake?” 

Chloe shakes her head, settling back into the passenger seat and letting her hand cover Nadine’s own on the gearshift. 

“It’s okay. I trust you.” 

It’s a bit of deja vu, driving home from the airport with tension hanging in the air between them.

Nadine’s apartment is perhaps a less cinematic street view than Chloe’s house, but Chloe studies her as she parks the car, slowly unbuckling her seatbelt and leaning forward. 

“Listen, Nadine, I’m jet-lagged and cranky and could really use a bath, but I’d still very much like to kiss you, if that’s okay.” 

Nadine nods, meeting her gaze and fighting a blush. 

Chloe brushes a calloused thumb against her cheek, before cradling the back of her head and leaning in, until their lips just meet. 

Her lips are dry and chapped from the flight, and Nadine feels herself holding her breath for the duration of the chaste kiss, wondering the whole time “ _ is this really happening _ ?” and seeing the whole scene in her mind’s eye as if from a distance. 

There are no sparks, or fireworks, but the world around her feels solid and comforting. 

Chloe pulls back. 

“I’m not overstepping, am I?” 

Nadine shakes her head. Leaning in for a proper kiss this time, before whispering against Chloe’s lips.

“It’s okay, I trust you.” 

_

Chloe grabs a quick shower at Nadine’s place, before Meenu drops by to pick her up in a pristine BMW. 

“How much are you paying her?” Nadine asks, eyeing the car. (She would’ve thought Chloe’s beat up civic was more in line with what personal assistants made, but then again, Chloe’s known to be overly generous where her own money is concerned.) 

“More than a living wage, but Meenu is a woman of many talents, and she has a wildly successful vlog, which you would know if you were under the age of 20.” 

“Thank god I’m not,” Nadine scoffs. 

“Being in your thirties— well, forties for me— is liberating, isn’t it? Not to mention it’s a woman’s sexual prime,” Chloe winks. 

“Shouldn’t you go commandeer Meenu’s new car?” 

“I should, alas. I’ll let you get back to work. Thanks for taking the time to pick me up, Nadine.” 

“Text me when you’re on your way back? I’ll get takeout.” 

“I would complain that you’re not taking  _ me  _ out,” Chloe cuts her off before she can interrupt “but I know that you’re only helping me avoid the paparazzi and an assault charge, so I’ll only hold it against you a little bit.” 

_

Nadine orders pizza, from the same place Chloe had had on the first night they’d met. 

Chloe spies the box when she walks into the kitchen and freezes, hand over her heart. 

“Didn’t take you for the sentimental type, Nadine.” 

“A Capricorn never forgets,” Nadine shrugs, offering Chloe a plate. “I figured if you were out of the biz, we could stand to celebrate the old-fashioned way.” 

Chloe moans around her first bite, and for the first time, Nadine doesn’t try to suppress her reaction, grinning instead. 

“That good, huh?” 

“Babe, the sounds you are gonna hear from me… you have no idea.” 

“I dunno… I’ve got a pretty active imagination,” Nadine mutters. 

“Hah! I  _ knew  _ you’d fantasized about me. You’re not as pure and noble as you’d have me believe, Nadine Ross.” 

Nadine feels her cheeks burn, but she doesn’t mind, not really. 

“You’re one to talk, with your little push up photos of me.” 

“Yeah,” Chloe blows her bangs out of her face,”but I’ve never claimed to be anything other than an unabashed lech.” 

Nadine chuckles. 

“How was your day?” 

“Really? You’re going to distract me from talking about how much I want your hot body to talking about real estate and contract law?” 

“I am.” 

“If I didn’t know in my bones with absolute certainty that you’re a secret wildcat in bed I’d be very disappointed right now.” Chloe picks at her crust, ripping out little pieces and dunking them in marinara. “House is officially on the market; offers have already come in so I reckon I can probably get a buyer before I go back to Australia. Victor didn’t seem too surprised at my telling him I wanted to take a break for at least a year, and my publicist thanked me for giving her time to recover from my last press cycle.” 

“Sounds like a productive day, then.” 

Chloe nods, finishing her last bite and dusting off flour from her hands.

“Shame all I could think about the whole day was getting the chance to be alone with you again.” 

Nadine abandons her own plate, scooting her chair back from the modest dining room table and leaning back. 

“What did you have planned? Filming me planking?” 

Chloe stands, stretching her arms overhead before extending a hand to Nadine. 

“I think we can find a better use for that upper body strength, don’t you?”

_

Nadine’s used to taking charge of situations (and she finds it’s something people tend to expect of her), but it’s Chloe who kisses her in the kitchen, who slips her tongue into her mouth and pushes her up against the wall of the hallway, as they haphazardly stumble to Nadine’s bedroom. 

(They both taste of cheese and oregano. It doesn’t matter.) 

“Control thing, hmm?” Nadine pants, as Chloe kisses her neck and unbuckles her belt. 

“Does it bother you?” Chloe steps back, giving herself a moment to breathe and slow down. “Because we can absolutely have a sexual battle of dominance if you want, but that wasn’t the energy I was picking up on.” 

Nadine takes advantage of the space between them to tear her shirt off, tossing it aside. 

(She feels a swell of pride at Chloe’s blatant ogling of her torso.  _ Hard work pays off, kids _ .) 

“Not bothered, Chloe.” She takes off her pants as well, to drive the point home. “Told you I liked a challenge, not that I had to come out on top.” 

“You’ll be coming, babe, trust me.” 

_

The sex is alternately awkward in the way first times with another person always are, and exhilarating in the way of a long expected arrival. It takes Nadine a full five minutes of working through her previous worries that she and Chloe wouldn’t actually have physical chemistry to get out of her head enough to realize that a)they very much do, and b)she’d be having a lot more fun if she focused on the gorgeous woman on top of her instead of her own internal monologue. 

“You all right, love?” Chloe’s hands have slowed their exploration of her body, sensing Nadine’s disconnect from the moment. 

Nadine takes a deep breath, and props herself up on her elbows so she can see Chloe better. 

“Ja, sorry. Got lost in my thoughts there for a moment.” 

“Nadine, we don’t have to do this yet, I just want to be close to you, honest. Hell, we can just cuddle if you want.” 

“No, I  _ want _ to.” (She really,  _ really _ does. No doubt or hesitation there.) “I just needed a minute to wrap my head around the fact that this is actually happening. That you’re really here.” 

Chloe pounces upward to give her a long, hard kiss. 

“You’re too fucking sweet, you know that?” 

“Shhhh, you’ll ruin my tough guy image.” 

“Our little secret, then,” Chloe winks, kissing her way back down Nadine’s chest. 

Chloe is gentle, tentative with Nadine in a way that she hadn’t expected (in a way that maybe she isn’t often with others), checking in constantly, observing every expression that crosses her face, every response of her body to her touches. 

It all feels wonderful, but Nadine is so tense about the mere fact that it’s happening at all that she worries she’ll exhaust Chloe before she gets anywhere close to an orgasm. 

“I’m sorry… I’m not sure I can tonight.” 

“No worries, love,” Chloe murmurs, kissing her hip bone. “But if you felt comfortable, could you touch yourself for me? I may have a massive ego but not in the bedroom, sweetheart. I just want you to enjoy yourself.” 

Nadine hesitates for a moment, before dragging her left hand down to settle between her thighs, spreading her legs wider subconsciously so Chloe has a better view. 

“I’ll try.”

“Is it okay if I talk to you while you do?” 

Nadine shivers at the mere suggestion. 

“More than okay,” she gasps, feeling just how worked up Chloe had gotten her.

“I love seeing you like this, open and wanton. Wet and glistening for me.” 

Nadine’s fingers speed up of their own accord. 

“You are  _ divine _ , Nadine Ross. You are the sexiest fucking thing I have ever seen.” 

“Chloe, you’re a fucking movie star.” 

“ _ Did. I. Stutter. _ ” 

(And yeah, maybe the stern voice is half a bit but it’s also half very much  _ not,  _ and Nadine can unpack what that all means later but for now she simply follows her body’s reaction to the tone of Chloe’s voice.) 

Nadine can feel herself approaching the edge, and she feels a sudden urge to have Chloe as close to her as possible.

“I need— your fingers— inside,” Nadine grips Chloe’s hand from it’s resting place on top of her thigh and guides her by the wrist. 

Chloe eases in, but she’s slick and ready. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Chloe moans, sinking in to the third knuckle. “You are going to feel so good coming around me, aren’t you?” 

Nadine’s reached the point where words don’t matter anymore, where curling her toes and whining in frustration will simply have to do. 

Chloe gets the message, talking her through. 

“That’s it, darling, go ahead and let go for me, show me what you can do.” 

Nadine comes with a moan, her hips spasming as she rides out the waves of her orgasm. She feels herself pulse and flutter around Chloe’s fingers, as she slows her own circles around her clit. When she’s well and truly spent, she slumps backwards against the mattress, and Chloe withdraws her hand, crawling up the bed to curl up against her side. 

“You’re magnificent.” 

“ _ Please _ ,” Nadine huffs, catching her breath, ”that was all you.” 

“Hush,” Chloe presses a finger to her lips. “And let me know when you’ve recovered enough to use those glorious arm muscles to fuck me into next week.” 

Nadine’s always been proud of her capacity to regain her second wind. Tonight is no exception. 

_

After two weeks of packed business schedules during the day and truly remarkable sex at night, Chloe’s return flight to Australia looms large. The morning of her departure, lying in bed together, Nadine tries to rip off the bandaid of the inevitable emotional wound. 

“Listen, Chloe…” 

“Make me coffee before talking to me about feelings,” Chloe grumbles into her pillow. 

Nadine obliges, gathering her thoughts as pours them each a cup. 

“Better,” Chloe opens a bleary eye over the rim of her mug, eyeing Nadine suspiciously. 

“I’ve really enjoyed having you here.” 

“I’ve really enjoyed being here,” Chloe sighs. “So we agree! Perfect.” 

“I just wanted you to know that if all this is is two great weeks, that’s okay with me. Long distance isn’t for everyone.” 

Chloe sits upright, all at once very awake and very annoyed. 

“Nadine, I waited a _ year  _ to kiss you. I can handle a bit of phone sex every now and then. If you want to dump me have the balls to say it with your chest,” she glares. 

“What? No! I don’t want to dump you? I just didn’t want you to feel obligated to…” 

“Nadine,” Chloe sighs, taking a sip of her coffee for fortitude, “I don’t want to be a fucking u-haul lesbian couple stereotype, but I thought I was pretty clear on the fact that I’m  _ clearly  _ head-over-heels in love with you. Even if you are a fucking idiot about it sometimes.” 

Nadine feels like she’s going to pass out, so she says nothing. 

“And, now I’ve made it weird. Good going, Frazer.” 

“No, I, Chloe, I. Look, you and I have different relationships to sex, okay, I just, didn’t want to make it mean something for you that it didn’t even if it did for me, and…” 

“Right. Well. That’s that sorted, then.” 

“But you’re going back to Australia!” Nadine feels suddenly panicked, her assumption that she would be let down easy now totally out the window. 

“Yeah, I am. And I sort of had this wild idea that I’d convince you to move there with me and raise cats, eventually. I mean, I know you would have lots of things to sort but despite my reckless image I do have a good bit saved up.” 

“I couldn’t take your money, Chloe.” 

“I know, love. But I’m pretty sure now that we’re living in the information age you can do hi-tech security blah blah blah on the other side of the world. You don’t have to go and turn your life upside down today, okay? Just… keep it in mind, maybe. Keep me in mind.” 

“You’ve always been in my mind, from the moment I met you,” Nadine admits. 

Chloe pushes her back down on the bed, straddling her waist. 

“China, you’ve got to stop saying shit like that or you’ll make me miss my flight.” 

_

On Chloe’s 41st birthday, she posts a photo of herself and Nadine to Instagram. She’s kissing Nadine on the cheek while Nadine holds Ganesh up to the camera. Everyone is smiling, practically glowing. 

She captions it thus: 

_ wow. What a year, huh? Some of you may remember a photo i posted many moons ago of a very hot bodyguard. I regret to inform you all that the rumours of my selfishness are absolutely true, and i’ve claimed her for my own (long after we finished working together, not that anyone cares, but she would want me to mention that, so, it’s done, everyone knows how hard you made me work for it, love).  _

_ I’m grateful to all of you for making this past year special- for finishing the Lena Crane journey with me, standing up to abusive people in the industry with me, and for understanding why i had to step away from it all for a bit.  _

_ And I’m grateful to Nadine for showing me that sometimes walking away is the bravest thing you can do x  _

The next February, Meenu’s YouTube Valentine’s day exclusive vlog interview with Chloe and Nadine gets 10 Million hits. 

Nadine pivots to becoming a traveling security consultant, transferring on-the-ground operations to her LA team, which grows by the week. 

Chloe gets a gig presenting a travel show, and if her and Nadine’s work schedules auspiciously line up more often than is sheer coincidence, _no they don’t._

  
  
  
  
  
  


Ganesh ends up making a  _ very _ fine ring bearer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you made it this far i owe you my life x

**Author's Note:**

> ganesh and his missing toof inspired by my cat and her missing toof <3


End file.
